


Lost Will

by Lady_Sci_Fi



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: M/M, Rape, Recovery, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-02
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2018-04-02 11:36:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 31
Words: 62,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4058524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Sci_Fi/pseuds/Lady_Sci_Fi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part 1- The last thing Bofur expected while on a hunting trip was to be captured by a group of Men and Dwarves, with the intent to use him as a sex slave.<br/>Can he recover who he was, and everything he's lost?</p><p>Part 2- The Quest. How does everything Bofur has been through affect his relationships and experiences with the other members of the Company during the Quest for Erebor? Will it help him recover the rest of his strength and sense of self?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For The Hobbit kinkmeme prompt:  
> Sometime before the Quest, Bofur gets kidnapped by a group of men and dwarves to be used as a sex slave. Bofur does his best to resist and fight the conditioning at every turn, but eventually they break him.  
> Optional: rescue and recovery
> 
> http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/14338.html?thread=25615362#t25615362

Bofur laughed at the joke Nori told as he tossed a small branch into the campfire. Nori had decided to accompany him and Bifur on a hunting trip, for which Bofur was glad. These trips hadn’t been the same since his cousin’s head injury, and having someone else to talk to was good for them both, even if Nori occasionally needed Bofur to interpret what Bifur had said.

In the middle of a conversation, Bofur noticed that Bifur hadn’t said anything for a long time, and he was staring out into the darkness past the fire. That wasn’t unusual in itself, but it wasn’t the empty sort of stare Bofur was used to. It was more focused. Bofur nudged his cousin. “Something wrong?”

“ _Don’t know_ ,” Bifur replied in Khuzdul. “ _Could be head, could be animal, could be_ …”

“I can take first watch if you two want to sleep now,” Nori offered.

“ _Not tired, not_ …” Bifur’s head snapped to one side, eyes definitely alert now. “ _Not alone_.”

Then all three heard the rustle of leaves and dirt, though they could still see nothing beyond the light the fire provided. They all got to their feet and picked up their weapons.

“Who’s out there?” Nori demanded.

“ _Show yourself!_ ” Bifur added.

Bofur called out, “If you’re friendly, there’s no need to hide.”

“Always assume for the good,” Nori muttered.

The silence played on their anxiety, and Bofur’s hands tightened on his mattock. An arrow whistled towards them, and bounced off the blade of Bifur’s spear.

“Not friendly,” Nori remarked.

Then a voice came from the darkness. “We would rather do this the easy way. After all, wouldn’t want to damage the goods. Put down your weapons.”

“What’s your business with us?” Nori asked.

“We have nothing of value. We’re just out hunting,” Bofur said.

Suddenly a group of six men and dwarves emerged from the darkness, weapons drawn and surrounding them. The one who had spoken before, a tall and muscled man, also stepped into the orange circle of light. “We only want one of you. There really doesn’t have to be any fighting.”

Bifur snarled, “ _What makes you think we’ll let you take one of us?_ ”

The leader raised his eyebrows. “Not that one, he can’t even speak Common. And there’s the obvious deficiency.”

“Which one then?” a dwarf asked.

The leader looked Bofur and Nori over, eyes going up and down them several times. “The one with the hat. He’s rather attractive, wouldn’t you say?”

Bofur’s tongue darted out across his bottom lip from the first real sense of fear. He had no idea what this group of men and dwarves wanted him for, but he knew he wouldn’t like it, especially since they came upon them armed in the night.

Nori pounced to attack first, and Bifur and Bofur quickly followed suit.

Bofur sidestepped an attack, letting that man step into the fire to deal with a dwarf coming for his side. He noticed the group’s weapons were all of the blunt variety, probably to not damage them too much. That thought didn’t make taking a hammer blow to the back of his leg any less painful.

Bofur crashed down to one knee, and that was quickly swept out from under him, leaving him flat on his back. A man jumped on him, straddling his waist and bringing down the handle of a staff to pin him down further. Bofur dropped his mattock and grabbed the staff to push up. He kicked out to add more force to it, but the man stayed firmly on top of him.

Then suddenly his view was filled with brown as a heavy cloth was pressed over his face. A too-sweet scent clogged into his nose as he snorted to breathe. He had the thought to hold his breath, but it came too late, and his limbs already started to go weak. His legs stopped kicking, his arms let the staff come down across his chest, and his eyes closed.

The last thing he heard before the sweet scented darkness overtook him were the cries of his name from his cousin and friend.

********

Light prickled into the darkness, bringing Bofur back from it. He slowly opened his heavy eyelids, and quickly shut them again at the invasive morning sunlight. He also felt the roll of nausea in his stomach. He let out a little groan and tried to bury his face in his arms. Then he realized that his wrists were tied together with thick rope. His eyes flew open as he tried to pull his hands apart.

A laugh came from behind, and Bofur turned over to see who it was. A dwarf, and past him were another six people. The dwarf nudged his leg with the toe of his boot as he chuckled again. “Nice to see you awake.”

The memories flooded back into Bofur’s mind, and he called out, “Bifur? Nori?”

The rest of the group came over to them, and Bofur quickly pushed himself up into a sitting position. The leader, a well-built man of about thirty now that Bofur could see him clearly, took a bite of the breakfast sausage in his hand.

“You’re friends aren’t here,” the leader said.

“What have you done to them?” Bofur demanded.

“Left them at your little campfire. Don’t worry, we haven’t killed them. We’re not in that business. They’ve simply been incapacitated and we made sure they wouldn’t be able to follow us for some time.”

“What if I don’t trust your word?”

The leader shrugged. “Do, or don’t. Not my concern.” He crouched down and offered the rest of the sausage. “Eat, you’ll feel better.”

Bofur glanced from the sausage to the man’s face, then back again, before accepting it. He took it with his bound hands and ate it in a few bites. The nausea did start to fade once he finished it. “What do you want with me?”

The leader shook his head. “More fun to leave you in the dark for a bit. Though I will say you look like you’ll be fun to train.”

“Train? I’m only trained for two things, mining and carving. Well, three if you count drinking ale.” Bofur put on his best smile as the group laughed. Maybe if he could get them in good enough spirits, he could convince them to let him go.

“And that’s all you’re trained for?” the leader asked.

“That’s my life,” Bofur replied, still smiling.

“Yevin, can we…?” another man asked the leader.

“Now now,” Yevin responded. “Patience. You know we can’t until we get back.” He tilted his head at his captive. “You have a lovely smile.”

“I’ve heard that, aye.” Bofur flinched as Yevin reached out and grabbed his hat.

“This mean anything to you?” the leader asked as he turned it over in his hands.

“Yes.”

Yevin gave a friendly smile and placed it back on Bofur’s head. “You get to keep it. I like that earring too, maybe you’ll also get to keep that.”

Bofur’s brow furrowed. “What is it you’re going on about? Tell me why you wanted me.”

Yevin glanced around at the rest of the group. “Go on, get some sleep. We’ll be moving again in a couple hours.”

“But-“ one dwarf started to protest.

“Me and him will just be talking for a bit. Now go on.”

The other six relented and went back to the campfire to settle in for sleep. Yevin followed, and came back with a piece of bread. He offered it to Bofur, who accepted and ate, keeping his eyes on the man the whole time.

“Your name is Bofur? That’s what the other two were calling out.”

Bofur nodded. “So why do you want me?”

“We heard about three dwarves off on a hunting trip, which is always a good opportunity. As for why you specifically, one had an axe in his head. The wild-spirited ones are always fun, but he wouldn’t go over well. And the other one… I didn’t like the look in his eyes. Too sneaky, opportunistic.”

Bofur let out a little chuckle to himself at the description of Nori. “If you’re a good friend, he’s not.”

“Also, of the choices…”

Bofur turned away as the back of the man’s hand brushed down his cheek.

“You were definitely the most attractive.”

“Look, lad, I don’t understand what that has to do with anything.” Bofur shook Yevin’s hand away, and now beginning to feel very uncomfortable in the man’s presence. “Am I supposed to be a hostage? Why go after my friends and me at all?”

Yevin glanced over to the rest of the group, and seemed satisfied that they were all settled into sleep. “Now… I can’t have you yet, but I suppose…” He grabbed Bofur’s tied hands and yanked him forward.

Bofur tried to pull back as he nearly landed face-first in the man’s lap. He struggled more when Yevin held his hands down over a half-hard bulge in his trousers. His eyes widened as he felt it stiffening more, and he looked to the man’s smirking face. “Let me go.”

“There is something I can do with you right now.” Yevin pulled a length of thick cloth from a jacket pocket and tied it around Bofur’s head and between his teeth as a gag. “As much as I would love to hear you, we don’t want to wake the others.”

Bofur shook his head and snorted against the gag, retching at the taste of old sweat smothering his tongue. He shoved at Yevin when the man tried to pick him up and moved him backwards. Yevin let out an amused chuckle and went around to drag Bofur from behind.

Bofur kicked out, though it didn’t stop Yevin from making him sit against a tree trunk. He kicked again when the man came around his front, but he easily caught his foot, that amused expression never leaving his face.

“I am going to love training you.”

Yevin slipped past Bofur’s next kick and straddled his thighs. Bofur pushed at him, but Yevin caught his bound hands and held them down between their bodies. “This isn’t going to hurt,” the man assured, though Bofur couldn’t believe him with that lecherously pleased look in his eyes.

Yevin seized Bofur’s chin so the dwarf couldn’t turn away as he went in for a rough kiss. Bofur was somewhat thankful for the gag, because it meant the man couldn’t shove his tongue in. But that obstruction didn’t stop the man from doing other things with his tongue, like darting it out to taste Bofur’s lips.

Bofur kept trying to push the man off, but Yevin’s grip on his hands was enough to stop him.

“Stop struggling so much,” Yevin whispered. “This’ll probably be the most enjoyable thing for you for a while.” With one hand, he pushed Bofur’s jacket open and started to feel his chest and abdomen through his shirts, letting out a delighted quiet laugh at the muffled verbal protests. “Oh, I really like you… so leanly muscled and… I look forward to seeing you without clothes.”

Bofur’s eyes widened and he started kicking again as Yevin’s hand went down between his legs. He growled and glared when the hand cupped his groin and gently squeezed.

“Relax, Bofur. Enjoy it.” Yevin nuzzled his nose against the dwarf’s cheek. His hand let go for a second, only to slip down past the waistband of Bofur’s trousers to grope him through the thinner undergarments.

Bofur’s entire body tensed to the point where he started to tremble. His teeth clenched around the cloth in his mouth. He tried to tell the man to stop, but the stifled protest went ignored.

“Good size, not that you’ll be using it on me, but I know it’ll look really nice when you’re…”

To Bofur’s horror, Yevin started to grind his pelvis against him, as he fondled him, the now fully-hard cock digging into his hip. He closed his eyes, willing his own body not to respond. The last thing he wanted this man to think was that he wanted this.

After a moment, Yevin withdrew his hand from Bofur’s groin. “You’re determined not to like it? Fine, won’t stop me.” He continued grinding down, angling so that he was now doing so against the dwarf’s groin.

Bofur kept his eyes squeezed shut the entire time, breaths coming in short bursts through his nose. He couldn’t believe this was happening to him, being molested like this by a man in the middle of a forest. A knot in the tree trunk dug into his back, and a root pressed hard against the back of his leg.

Yevin moved in for another kiss, and Bofur tried to bite him, which only resulted in an amused shake of the head. “Keep that up, and they’ll make you wear the gag for a while.”

Bofur turned his head as the man pushed down his trousers and breeches, letting his hardness spring free. Yevin firmly grabbed his face and turned it back. “Don’t tell me you don’t like males. From what I’ve seen, dwarves don’t care what their partners are. Or is it that I’m such a glory to behold?”

Bofur glared at him, wanting to spit in his face. He bucked his hips, but Yevin didn’t budge.

Yevin tugged on the ends of Bofur’s mustache, then brought the dwarf’s bound hands against his cock. Bofur immediately curled his hands into tight fists and tried to pull back.

“Now now, don’t be like that. I am going to get off, and you will help.”

Bofur violently shook his head.

“You have a choice.” Yevin brought one hand up behind Bofur’s head to yank on the thick braid to force his face up. “You help get me off, or I go wake everyone else and you’ll do so for all of us. And they probably won’t be as… controlled as me.”

Bofur swallowed, though his mouth was dry from the gag. He set his jaw and shook his head.

“No, what? No to me, or to them? Because neither is not an option. You’ve got me all riled up, so I’m going to get off either way.”

Bofur’s face softened into a pleading expression. Yevin smiled and said, “Oh, that is good. I hope to make you look at me like that more often. Now, make up your mind. Just me, or all of us?”

Another shake of the head was all Bofur could do. He couldn’t unfurl his hands, couldn’t curse the man, couldn’t kick him off and run.

“Very well then, I’ll get the others.” Yevin started to rise.

In desperation, Bofur grabbed at the front of the man’s shirt to keep him there. He closed his eyes and loosened his grip, letting his hands fall to the naked crotch, though avoiding the erection. He bit his lip, deciding that he could handle willingly servicing one. He knew he wouldn’t be able to take doing this seven times.

Yevin laughed. “Good, because I wasn’t in a particularly sharing mood.” He glanced down at Bofur’s hands expectantly. “I’m sure you can figure out what to do.”

Bofur didn’t have a choice but to use both hands, with them being tied together. They shook as he closed them around the thick shaft.

“You try to hurt me, I’ll wake them up. Understand?”

Bofur nodded, and turned his gaze to the grass to his side, to give his mind something, anything else to focus on.

“Well, come on,” Yevin prompted, making his captive flinch as he thrusted his hips up.

Bofur started moving his hands up and down the man’s cock, his body shuddering with each stroke. Yevin started to moan and rock his hips back and forth to dictate a rhythm, and Bofur’s eyes closed. He hated himself for submitting like this, but what other choice did he have? He couldn’t do this seven times, couldn’t submit like this seven times.

He thought of his Bifur and Nori, if they were alright, if they were looking for him. Of course they were, he couldn’t let himself doubt that. They would find him, before this got too bad, before… before…

A hand yanking on the braid on the back of his head pulled him from his thoughts. “Open your eyes and look at me,” the breathy voice demanded. Bofur obeyed, though his eyes gave the man a look of pure contempt. Yevin chuckled, “Another good look, you’ve got so many.”

Yevin’s breathing became heavier, and his grip on Bofur’s hair tightened. His eyes closed and he rested his forehead against the dwarf’s. Bofur tried to turn away, but Yevin pulled him back into position. Bofur whimpered as the man’s lips crashed down onto his, claiming them roughly.

Bofur quickened the pace of his hands, needing this to be over with as quickly as possible. He let go the instant he felt the hot stickiness land on his hands.

“Put your hands back and finish me off properly.”

Bofur didn’t need the threat to be spoken to obey, though he hesitated in wrapping his hands around the cock. He stroked slower than before, and had to bite his lip to keep his hands there. A few more spurts landed on the backs of his hands, and the man finally said, “Now you can let go.”

Bofur immediately started wiping his hands on his trouser leg. He flinched as Yevin patted his cheek. Then the man untied the gag. As soon as enough saliva gathered in Bofur’s mouth, he spat on Yevin’s cheek.

Yevin calmly wiped the spit away with the gag. “Oh yes, I will have fun with you. Now tell me something, Bofur. What’s your profession?”

“Miner,” Bofur quickly replied, not seeing a reason in refusing to answer something so simple.

“Really? That’s it?”

“What’s so hard to believe about that?”

Yevin took Bofur’s hands and unfurled the fist of one of them. He felt the fingers, studying them. “You do something more delicate, probably in addition to the mining.”

Bofur simply glared, his will to cooperate all but run out.

“Come on, tell me. What harm will that cause, other than-“

“Toymaker,” Bofur relented, not wanting to hear the threat again.

“Interesting.” Yevin studied Bofur’s hands for another moment before pulling another piece of cloth from his pocket.

Bofur smelled that sweet scent too late to try to push the man away. It went over his mouth and nose, and he had no choice but to breathe it in, though this time it was taken away before he could pass out. But it was enough to make his limbs too heavy to move. He watched through a hazy mind as Yevin got up, went over to the camp, found a length of rope, and hurried back.

“Can’t risk you running off,” the man remarked as he wrapped the rope around Bofur’s middle to securely tie him to the tree. He bent over for a forceful kiss before going back to join his sleeping friends around the fire.

When the sweet-scented fog cleared, Bofur whispered a prayer. “Please, Mahal, let Bifur and Nori find me. Please… soon…”


	2. Chapter 2

Bofur didn’t even attempt to sleep, instead using all his energy to try to maneuver his hands out of the rope. All he succeeded in doing was rubbing his wrists raw and leaving himself tired by the time the group of men and dwarves awakened.

He tried to turn his head away at the sight of a thick square of cloth that gave off that sweet scent as a dwarf approached him. “I can walk,” he stated.

“Easier to knock you out and carry you. Less risky, too.” The dwarf knelt down and got an elbow to the chest. “He’s fighting me,” the dwarf called out to the others preparing to leave. “Not that I’m complaining,” he added with a little laugh. “I hope he continues to for a while.”

Bofur had no choice but to breathe in that sickly-sweet mixture on the cloth as the dwarf took firm hold of his head and pressed it hard against his mouth and nose.

********

The next time he awakened, the sun was setting. He glanced around, and saw that they had left the forest behind. He groaned against the back of the shoulder of the man who was carrying him. Groggily, and biting back the nausea, he asked, “How much longer?”

“Another day or so,” Yevin answered, patting Bofur on the back.

“Please, let me go. I’ll give you all the coin I have. Whatever you want.”

“You’ll make us more money than you have.”

“There’s no need for this. Just… let me go, no hard feelings. I won’t tell anyone.”

Yevin simply flashed an amused smile and tugged on Bofur’s hair.

They didn’t stop and set up camp until it was fully dark. Bofur hadn’t spoken since he had asked to be let go. He didn’t say anything when he was handed pieces of meat and bread for dinner.

“Come now, won’t you talk for us? You have such a lovely voice,” requested one man.

Bofur turned his body away so he wouldn’t have to see them as he ate.

“Would you sing for us?” another asked.

“I am not your pet to do tricks for you,” Bofur said through clenched teeth.

“He says that now.” A chorus of laughs.

Bofur finished his food and drank from the waterskin that had also been given to him. He sat there quietly, watching the people who had taken him. When they were fully engaged with talking to each other, Bofur slowly started to scoot backwards. Once out of easy reach, he pushed himself up to his feet and started running.

The immediate shout spurred him to run faster, though his legs were cramped from being carried all day. He didn’t make it far, and crashed down hard as two of the men tackled him from behind. He spat out the taste of grass and tried to turn over onto his back to start kicking at them, but they were too heavy. Pain blossomed at the base of his neck as a fist came down on it.

The two men got off and seized his arms, picking him up and half-carrying him back to the group. Bofur kept kicking the whole way. They dumped him in front of Yevin, and the leader only looked at him with that damned amused grin.

“I was wondering when you were going to do that.”

Bofur breathed heavily through his nose, not even flinching when his hat, which had fallen off in the struggle, was placed back on his head.

Yevin considered his captive for a moment. To the others, he said, “Bofur’s quite skilled with his hands.”

Bofur’s eyes widened. “No, don’t! Don’t make me-”

Yevin made a mock hushing sound. “You’re obviously not ready for that.” He suddenly pounced on Bofur, knocking him flat on his back and straddling his waist. “Just me, again. But they get to watch this time.”

Bofur pushed at Yevin, but the man stayed put. Yevin pressed his body down completely on top of his, and he tried to bite at the leader’s face. Yevin dodged it and their lips smashed together in a rough kiss.

Bofur could do nothing but feebly kick out as Yevin kissed him. He shuddered as the man’s tongue pushed past his teeth, and had to force himself not to bite down on it, knowing that would be unforgivable. His body shivered as he jacket and shirt were undone and yanked down over his shoulders as far as Yevin could manage, exposing his skin to the night air.

Yevin lifted himself just enough to allow his hand to slide down Bofur’s body and into his trousers. Bofur squeezed his eyes closed as he was stroked and fondled, and he once again tried to push the man off of him.

After a moment, Yevin stopped and said, “Still determined not to enjoy this, I see. No matter, maybe you will in time.” He pushed down his pants to expose the half-erect cock, and guided the dwarf’s hands down to it.

In the end, Bofur was once again forced to use his bound hands to stroke Yevin to hardness and to finish. A wave of humiliation passed over him. The others of the group were watching, moaning, hands down their own trousers and getting off to the public display. He wanted to hide, to run, anything to get away from them. But he couldn’t, not with Yevin’s weight pressing down completely on him, not with six others who would catch him easily.

With a loud grunting moan, Yevin finally finished, spurting his seed over Bofur’s hands. He held them there until he was fully spent, then let Bofur withdraw them. He pressed down for one last rough and sloppy kiss before getting up.

Bofur closed his eyes at the sounds of the others finishing, the moans and grunts echoing in his mind. He rolled over onto his front, burying his face in his hat and arms. He ignored the comment of “I think he’s getting rather shy on us.” His body shook with a mix of emotions. This wasn’t the worst it was going to get, he knew that. Whatever was in store for him… how could he get through it? Through the pain and humiliation certain to come?

Bofur felt someone crouch down next to him and tensed further.

“Relax,” Yevin said. “Turn over so I can do up your clothes.”

Bofur didn’t move, determined to not make this an easy thing for the man. Then the leader stroked the exposed skin of his upper back. Bofur scrambled away on his hands and knees, then turned to Yevin and spat out, “Don’t touch me!”

“I simply don’t want you to be too uncomfortable with the chill. But if you’re happy like that, fine.”

Bofur glared, perfectly content to be a little cold tonight if it meant he wouldn’t be touched again.

“Very well.” To a couple of his group, Yevin ordered, “Tie him to that boulder. And tie his feet together for the night, too.”

********

Bofur opened his mouth to shout out for help as they neared a large town. He gagged as a thick strip of cloth was suddenly shoved between his teeth and tied around his head.

“Even if you got anyone’s attention, they wouldn’t help,” Yevin stated.

Bofur snorted in response, and didn’t try to talk through the gag as they went around the town. Once they cleared it, a very large building loomed into view, not far from the town. Bofur’s heart filled with dread, getting the dire sense that once he was taken in there, he wouldn’t be coming out. This was his last chance to escape.

Bofur forced his heels into the stomach of the man carrying him on his back. The man let go of his legs to clutch at his abdomen, allowing Bofur’s weight to drag him down to the ground. Bofur unlooped his bound hands from around the man’s neck and scurried to his feet, making a run for the town. He ripped the gag from his mouth and called out for help.

His escape attempt came to an abrupt end when a hand seized the back of his jacket and yanked him back. He fell to the ground, and rolled over backwards from the momentum. He quickly jumped up to his feet, only to find the group of men and dwarves surrounding him.

Like a scared cornered animal, Bofur’s eyes darted between them, his movements twitchy as he turned to face them all in quick succession. He breathed hard, heart pounding as his way out of all this closed off.

“Don’t make us have to drug you again, not when we’re so close,” Yevin said.

Against all hope of actual success, Bofur charged for a space between two of them, ducking to the side as they closed that space and slipping past. A split-second later, he cried out as a fist closed around the braid at the back of his head and spun him around, straight into a the edge of a hand at neck height. He dropped to the ground, choking and coughing at the forceful impact to his throat.

He rolled onto his side, tears stinging his eyes, fingers digging into the grass, and legs slightly kicking behind in response to the sharp and vicious pain.

“Come on, let’s go before he recovers from that,” Yevin commanded.

It was all Bofur could do to breathe and try to ride through the pain in his throat as he was picked up and half-carried between two men. He didn’t even raise his head until they had passed through the large front doors of the building.

It was luxuriously decorated, with expensive and lush fabrics and objects. It was for conveying pleasure, and at the sight of a few people dressed in little more than loincloths and leather collars around their necks, along with some people who seemed to have as much authority as the group that had captured him, Bofur started to struggle again.

“That’s the direct opposite reaction of those who come here of their own will,” Yevin remarked with a laugh. “You’ll get the full tour later.”

“Let me go,” Bofur rasped through his abused throat.

“We’ve been through this,” Yevin replied as they continued through the complex.

Bofur didn’t pay attention to anything other than the back of the man leading them through.

“This is a business, and a very good one at that. Certainly beats any other job I’ve had. It wouldn’t be good for said business if we just let people go because they asked. I know you can understand that.”

“Doesn’t make it right,” Bofur shot back.

Yevin chuckled. “No, but there’s a reason places like this exist. People have certain needs, and this is where they come to sate them.”

“You’re vile and-“

“Keep insulting me, I don’t mind. Though other people might.”

Bofur closed his mouth and clenched his fists. He glanced around for any weakness, but from what he could see, security looked tight. He definitely wasn’t going to break out of here right now. He would have to wait for an opportunity, and he hoped it would come relatively soon.

The group that had captured Bofur led him to a bathing room, with a large bath filled with water set into the floor. Yevin commanded, “Strip.”

Bofur glared and raised his bound hands. Yevin put on an amused little smile and pulled out a knife. The cut rope fell to the floor, and Bofur massaged his wrists, gently going over the abrasions in his skin with his thumbs.

“Strip,” Yevin repeated.

Bofur met the man’s gaze. “No.”

“I do love your spirit,” Yevin remarked. He took the dwarf’s hat.

Bofur’s brow furrowed in slight confusion at the tender way the man seemed to handle it, brushing any dirt off it, then placing it carefully on a shelf. At the order for the other six to strip him, Bofur started trying to fight again.

He ended up flat on his back, with the group practically tearing his clothes off his body. “Don’t touch me!” he cried out as the last of his clothes were tossed aside. Yevin whistled, and the others backed away from Bofur. Bofur got to his feet, slightly shivering. “Don’t touch me,” he repeated through clenched teeth.

“Will you get in the water and bathe yourself?” Yevin asked. “Otherwise we’ll do it for you. Let me tell you, we’ll be quite thorough.”

It only took a second of noticing the way the group lustfully looked over his naked body for Bofur to decide. He glanced to the side to be sure of his footing as he stepped down the bath stairs, and kept his eye on the others in case they tried anything. His feet touched the bottom, and Bofur lowered himself in the cool water until only his head was above. The water lapped at his chin. “This doesn’t mean I’m freely submitting.”

“Of course not.” Yevin considered his team for a short moment. “Go get some proper food and rest, you’ve deserved it.” His expression left no room for argument. There were a few quiet grumbles, but they left the room. He grabbed something from a shelf and stepped towards Bofur, stopping at the edge of the bath. “They were making you uncomfortable.”

“If you cared about that, you would also leave.”

Yevin tossed the sponge and washcloth to Bofur. “I’m your trainer. The others will assist me.”

“So that’s how it works? You go out and get yourself someone you like, and they’re yours?”

“Oversimplification, but something like that. Now wash up. You’re to be presented to Abner.”

“And who’s he supposed to be?”

“The man who runs this place. Wash your hair, too.”

Bofur grabbed the floating sponge and turned his back on the man. It did feel good to wash himself in the cool water, though he scrubbed longer and harder than was needed at his hands, wanting all traces of Yevin’s seed gone.

After a moment, Yevin said, “Would you like to know why we couldn’t have you on the way here?”

“As long as it stopped you from touching me more than you did,” Bofur shot back, not turning to face the man.

Yevin laughed. “As your trainer, I get to be the second to have you.”

Bofur turned, squeezing the sponge tightly in one hand. “What?”

“It’s policy. You see, the pleasure of being the first to have a new slave is Abner. He would know if we didn’t follow that rule.”

Bofur gritted his teeth. “When you say I’m to be presented to him, you mean…”

“He’ll try you out, yes.”

Bofur couldn’t stand the sight of Yevin’s grin, and turned away to huddle into himself. More to give his hands something to do, he started undoing his braids. After a long minute of silence, he asked, “How?”

“However he wishes.”

Bofur’s hands shook as he let down his hair. He was going to be used, and soon. How was he supposed to cope with this? How could he… no, he couldn’t assume the worst. Maybe Abner wouldn’t be in the mood to hurt him. But that would only be delaying the inevitable…

Bofur closed his eyes, held his breath, and went under the water. He stayed as long as his lungs would allow, finding a small sense of peace, however deceptive it was. He once again prayed for Bifur and Nori to find him soon, though that hope had waned with every hour they had travelled. He had to keep that hope, had to hold onto the belief he would be out of here quickly.

He slowly emerged his head, and started scrubbing at his scalp. He was going to take advantage of this time, trying to push back the dread that he wasn’t going to feel clean again for a long time.

“That’s enough. Out, now.”

“I’m not clean yet.”

Yevin shook his head. “If I let you stay in there, you’d never come out. Now, out. I’ll go find some guards and they’ll drag you out. They won’t be gentle.”

Bofur bit his bottom lip. He dunked his head under again for a short time, then climbed out of the bath, putting distance between himself and the man who had captured him. He caught the towel Yevin threw to him, and slowly dried himself off, wanting to delay being presented to Abner as long as he could.

He quickly backed against a wall when Yevin approached him. The man only shook his head in amusement as he held out the loincloth and hairbrush. “You’re scared,” he stated.

Of course Bofur was afraid, though he wasn’t going to admit that to the man. He took a few deep breaths to calm down enough to say, “I’d rather have my clothes. I don’t care how torn up and dirty they are now.”

“I’m sure you would, but they’re hardly appropriate. No, you can’t wear the towel, either.”

If this were any other situation, Bofur would’ve laughed at that. What he did do was give Yevin a look of contempt before he took the loincloth and brush. He quickly pulled the clothing on, not wanting Yevin to keep staring at his fully naked body.

He started brushing his hair, and nearly threw the brush at Yevin when the man commented, “You were quite handsome before, but with your hair loose, you’re… pretty. Don’t do it up again.” Out of spite, Bofur set down the brush once he was finished with it, and started to separate the hair on one side of his head into three strands to start braiding it.

Yevin was on him in within a second, pinning him against the wall and forcefully kissing him. Bofur couldn’t get enough leverage to push him away. He let out a grunt of pain when Yevin pulled away and kneed him in the groin.

Yevin went over to grab Bofur’s hat from the shelf, then came back and seized the dwarf by the arm. “Let’s go. You’re ready.”


	3. Chapter 3

Bofur kept trying to pull away from Yevin’s grip on his arm, though the man was too strong and it only served to amuse him further. Bofur couldn’t stand that, couldn’t stand the fact that everything he had done to try to get away had only made Yevin smile and grin more, like a predator toying with its prey. Still, he couldn’t stop attempting to struggle, he couldn’t just give in, no matter how much he hated that smirking expression.

“You’ve caught yourself a nice one,” one of the other trainers said with a low whistle as they passed by.

“On the way to see Abner,” Yevin replied.

“Can I have a go with him sometime?”

Bofur snarled and turned his head away from the other trainer.

“Oh, spirited, I like that.”

Once out of the other trainer’s earshot, Yevin consoled, “Don’t worry, he won’t even have a chance at you, at least for a while.”

“That’s supposed to make me feel better?”

“I tried,” Yevin shrugged. “Ah, here we are.” He opened a door to a small private room, and pushed Bofur in before him. “Stand there,” he commanded, pointing to a small raised platform a few inches up from the floor.

Bofur didn’t move. He swallowed back the angry tone of his voice and asked, “May I have my hat back?”

“That was almost polite,” Yevin remarked. “But no, sorry. You get it back after we’re done here. Now stand there. I suggest you do it before Abner arrives. He’ll be a lot rougher otherwise.”

That threat wasn’t something Bofur wanted to try out, so he reluctantly stepped up onto the platform. He didn’t have to wait long for the arrival of the person who ran this place. Flanked by two guards, Abner strode in. He was a man older than Yevin, who obviously enjoyed the luxury he had created for himself. His clothing and jewelry was of fine make. He had a definite air of confidence and authority. Bofur didn’t let that intimidate him as he stared at the man.

“How much trouble was he?” Abner asked Yevin as he started to circle around the dwarf. He got a hiss from Bofur when he touched a bruised spot on his side.

“Nothing we couldn’t handle, though he is quite spirited.”

Abner stopped in front of Bofur and spoke directly at him. “You are quite a catch for a dwarf. The thing about you lot is that you hide all your attractiveness under all that facial hair. Never understood that, so we make the dwarf slaves here keep their beards short. But you normally keep yours like that?”

Bofur didn’t answer the question. Yevin said, “It was like that when we got him.”

Abner nodded. “Good, that’s one less thing to train him on.” He started circling around Bofur again, this time touching. Running fingers over his skin, feeling muscle, hands going down to the loincloth…

Bofur gritted his teeth through the touching, but jumped away when Abner’s hand grabbed at his ass.

“I haven’t even done anything to you yet,” Abner chuckled. “Nothing wrong with a little touching.”

“Please, let me go.” Bofur forced his voice to be calmer than he felt.

“Oh, he can speak,” Abner mused.

“Please, I… I wouldn’t be suited to this at all,” Bofur continued.

“That’s what all our slaves think when they first arrive. Training proves otherwise,” Abner replied with a little grin.

“Let me go home, please. I won’t tell anyone of this place, of you, any of it. You don’t have to do this.”

“Of course I don’t.” Abner signaled to his guards, who quickly seized Bofur by the arms. He glanced to the trainer and asked, “What do you suggest?”

“No! No, don’t do this to me!” Bofur cried, trying to break free of the guards’ grips.

“I wouldn’t use his mouth just yet,” Yevin answered. “He’s tried to bite me a few times already, and all I’ve done was kiss him.”

“Noted, though I do look forward to when you train that out of him.” Abner stepped forward and ran his thumb down Bofur’s cheek and under his bottom lip. “Such a pretty mouth…”

Bofur grit his teeth as Abner seized a handful of his hair and pushed his head back painfully. Then the man bent down to kiss him. Bofur kicked at Abner’s shin, and snapped his teeth, barely missing the man’s lips.

“I see what you mean,” Abner laughed. He made a gesture to the guards, who dragged the dwarf over to the bed.

“No! Let me go! Please!” Bofur struggled as the guards turned him around so that his back was to the other two men, and they forced him to bend over the edge of the bed. They held him down, and someone nudged the back of his feet with a large solid object. He lifted his feet, and found himself on a small standing box. He quickly realized it was to make up for the height difference. He tried to jump off and kick it away, but couldn’t get any leverage with his shoulders and arms pinned down against the soft sheets.

Bofur went completely still as a large hand settled in the middle of his back, though he couldn’t stop himself from shuddering at the touch. He closed his eyes and tuned out whatever the men were saying. This couldn’t be happening to him, it couldn’t. He would open his eyes and find himself at the small campfire with Bifur and Nori, and realize that all this had been a terrible nightmare. It had to be…

A whimper escaped through his clenched teeth as the back of his loincloth was flipped up and something wet and cold splashed against his backside. He buried his face into the silky sheets as a heavy finger trailed down his back. It lifted away once it reached the crack of his ass, but quickly returned with the rest of the hands to separate the cheeks. As the finger, now slick with oil, circled and prodded around his entrance, Bofur felt tears begin to sting behind his closed eyelids. This was going to happen, and he was helpless to do anything to prevent it.

He began struggling again as the tip of that finger pressed in past the tight ring of muscle. He raised his head at Yevin’s voice saying, “Relax, you need to be prepared. Don’t want to hurt you too much.”

Bofur’s body went into that tense stillness again as Abner pushed his finger in further. He breathed heavily through his nose into the sheets to stop himself from crying out.

“So tight.” Abner remarked. “One thing I love about dwarves is that they’re always tight around my cock, no matter how much they’ve been used. Bofur, how much have you been on that side of sex with a male?”

Bofur didn’t answer. His hands curled into fists as he grasped the sheets. “Get this over with,” he hissed, voice muffled. Abner started turning and thrusting with his finger, and Bofur forced himself to think of something, anything else when a second finger prodded to join the first. Laughing as he told a story to Nori while Bifur broke a stick in half to throw into the fire… coming home after a long shift at the mines to the smell of Bombur’s cooking… scooping up one of his nieces as she ran to greet him…

The visions of home were driven from Bofur’s mind as something thicker and hotter than Abner’s fingers abruptly forced itself into him. He shook, clenching his jaw shut to not cry out, to not give these men any satisfaction. He bit back a sob as Abner’s cock slowly slid further in.

Once all the way inside, Abner stopped moving for a long minute. “Oh, Bofur… you feel so good…” His hands slowly moved to grip Bofur’s hips, and he slowly pulled halfway out.

Bofur screamed into the sheets as Abner suddenly thrust forward, forcing himself all the way in in one fast move. The pain was unbearable, like he was being split in two around the hard cock. He clawed at the sheets under his hands, desperately trying to get away, but the guards’ grips on his wrists, and Abner’s hold on his hips were enough to keep him down.

Abner let the dwarf’s scream die down into a whimper before he repeated the movement again. Bofur screamed again, it somehow seeming to hurt even worse than the first time. Evidently satisfied that Bofur had loosened enough and was now ready for rougher treatment, Abner’s thrusts came quicker and harder.

Bofur cried out from the splitting agony with every thrust. Abner gave him no time between to get used to it. His tears freely flowed from his eyes and dampened the sheets below his face. He desperately tried to recall his visions of his home, his family, his friends to mentally take him away from this place, of what was being done to him. But they disappeared in flashes of pain every time the invading thing inside him was driven completely in.

Something warm mixed with the oil trickling down the back of his thighs. His stomach rolled in nausea. His breathing became snatched bursts between cries. His knees buckled and his legs gave out under the strain, but it didn’t matter. He was held onto tightly enough for it to not interrupt the action. The rhythm became relentless, the weight of the man crushing, the cock inside excruciating…

The rhythm was lost as Abner’s body shuddered and he ground up against Bofur. He grabbed the dwarf’s hair and did it a few more times, moaning his pleasure loudly.

Bofur buried his face in the sheets and sobbed at the sensation of the man’s seed filling him. Now it was no longer the pain that plagued him, but the humiliation as well. Abner pulled out and stepped away once finished, and the guards let him go. Bofur ended up sliding down onto his knees on the box, his head and arms lying limply on the bed.

He whimpered at the lingering pain, and hid his face in his arms. He felt dirty, defiled, ruined… Blood, sweat, oil, and semen ran down his thighs in a filthy mixture. He heard the voices of Yevin and Abner, but couldn’t make out the words, not that he cared to.

Bofur was allowed a couple minutes before the guards hauled him up to unsteady feet by his arms. His head hung low, only to be tilted up by Abner’s hand taking his chin. He closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see the man’s face. He couldn’t find the strength to put up any struggle as Abner roughly kissed him.

“Oh, yes,” Abner breathed after letting go. “You’ll do very nicely.” He stepped back. “Yevin, take him to the healer.”

********

Bofur blinked, and kept staring at the wall only a few inches in front of his face, as he had been since he had been brought to his room, which was little more than a comfortable cell. He didn’t know how much time had passed since he had been with Abner, nor did he care. At some point the room and hallway outside the barred door had gone dark, indicating it was night.

By Mahal, his entire body ached. The healer had done what he could for the bleeding, and had given him some medicine to ease some of the pain. Then Yevin had brought him here, and finally given him back his hat, which he now clutched tightly to his chest as he lay in the bed.

“Please…” he whispered into the grey fur front of his hat, his voice hoarse from the toll screaming had taken on it. “Please, Mahal… let them find me.” His body tensed as another wave of pain washed over his lower half. “Please… before… before I’m hurt past the point of no return. Before I’m… Mahal, please. Find me…”


	4. Chapter 4

Bofur cried out as he was roughly shaken awake, and kicked out at whoever was doing it. He didn’t make any contact, though it made the person stop touching him.

“Get up,” ordered Yevin. “I let you sleep through breakfast, but you will eat lunch.”

“Not hungry.” Bofur turned back over and held his hat tightly against his chest.

“That wasn’t a request.” Yevin grabbed one of Bofur’s ankles and yanked him from the bed.

Bofur bit back a yelp as his aching body hit the floor. He glared up at the man and pushed himself up to his feet, still clutching his hat.

“Letting you starve yourself isn’t going to happen. Hardly good for business. You will also keep yourself healthy and fit. Is that clear?”

“What would you do if I didn’t eat? Force-feed me?”

“Yes. I’d rather not, it’s not pleasant. Oh, and the hat stays here.”

That only made Bofur’s grip on it tighten.

“We wouldn’t want it to get dirty or otherwise soiled, would we?”

With an exhale of reluctance, Bofur gently placed his hat on his bed. He bared his clenched teeth at the mocking, “Good boy, now come along,” from his trainer.

********

After bathing and eating, Bofur was given free rein to explore the building complex. He used the opportunity to look for possible escape routes. His search proved fruitless, since there were enough guards at every exit he found to be too much for him to handle. Perhaps if he could get a weapon of some kind he could get through whatever door he used, but what if they were locked? Not to mention a lot of the guards were men, and not dwarves. And certainly they would easily catch him. Besides, where would he go? Yevin had made it clear that the nearby town wouldn’t be sympathetic to him if he did manage to get away. And what would Abner do to punish him when they caught him?

Bofur closed his eyes and shook his head to stop himself from following that line of thinking. Surely, there would be a good opportunity to try to escape. He couldn’t allow fear of punishment stop him from attempting. The alternative was simply submitting to them. Something he would not do, could not do. Whether or not rescue would come soon, he would have to stay strong, and try to escape.

The doubt crept into his mind again. How long could he last? How much of this could he endure? A week, a month, a year? Mahal forbid he was here an entire year. What state could he possibly be in then?

A pair of hands seizing one arm snapped Bofur from his thoughts. The dwarf, one he recognized as being part of Yevin’s team, yanked him up from the bench and started pulling him along. “Yevin’s got a little gift for you.”

Bofur wrenched his arm from the dwarf’s grasp. “I don’t want any gift from him.”

“It’s a requirement.” The dwarf seized a fistful of Bofur’s hair.

Bofur struggled against the painful grip, but yielded and walked with the other trainer dwarf. He was led to a room with a bed in the center, not as lavish as Abner’s was. He pulled back, not caring about the pain from his hair being pulled as he did so. The other dwarf grabbed his arm and practically tossed him inside, straight into the arms of one of Yevin’s men.

Bofur kicked out, raising both legs off the floor. “Let me go!”

Yevin came in, holding something in his hand, and closed the door. “Let him go,” he told the other man.

Bofur barely resisted the urge to spit at the man who had been holding him a second before. He was already sick of being manhandled and shoved around.

“Do calm down. You’ll be surprised how much easier this’ll all become when you do,” Yevin chided.

Bofur didn’t even attempt to dignify that with a response. Yevin gestured to the other two, who took hold of an arm each. He held up the item in his hand to show Bofur what it was. A leather collar, like the ones all the other slaves had. Engraved in the front was his name.

“Don’t you dare put that on me.”

“It’s not optional. It won’t hurt.” Yevin went behind Bofur.

At the first touch of the leather against his throat, Bofur started struggling again. He was not going to let them collar him like a common dog. Yevin stepped back, and the other two didn’t let go, but they didn’t do anything to make him stop either. Bofur knew what they were doing, but he still had to struggle, still had to show them he wasn’t going to make this easy for them.

It took a minute, but Bofur finally tired himself out. His body still ached from the violation yesterday. He slumped in the grips of the man and dwarf. He closed his eyes as the collar encircled his neck and was secured at the back. When he was let go, he raised a hand and felt at it. He shuddered at the engraving of his name over his throat. The back was secured in a belt manner, though he felt a small metal lock clasp. He couldn’t undo it himself.

“This will be on you constantly, except while sleeping and bathing. If there are any signs of tampering with it to get it off, like cut marks, there will be punishment,” Yevin explained. “Do you understand?”

“I… I do.”

“Good.” Yevin came around to look Bofur over. “It looks quite nice on you.” He leaned in and laid a hand on the side of Bofur’s neck, caressing. His thumb came up to trail down one side of the dwarf’s mustache, and stroke his goatee. “Your training begins now.” He looked to his assistants. “Tie him to the bed.”

Bofur couldn’t put up much of a struggle. He had already exhausted himself before, and now wished he hadn’t over the collar. His hands were tied separately to the headboard. They also tied his ankles together. He pulled at the rope above his head, and noticed it was more smooth and soft than regular rope, probably to prevent the skin of the wrists tearing and bleeding. It was still just as strong as normal rope, though.

“Leave us,” Yevin ordered the other two. He waited until they did and closed the door behind them to strip off his shirt and trousers. “Now that Abner had his fill, it’s my turn. I won’t be as… rough as him.”

“I… I haven’t recovered from him yet,” Bofur blurted out, trying to think of any excuse for this not to happen.

“You’re going to have to get used to that. Eventually, your body will.” Yevin stripped off Bofur’s loincloth and dropped it to the floor. He climbed up on the bed and warned, “If you try to do anything violent to me, I’ll get all my team in here and give them free rein to use you. Play nice, and it’s just me.”

That really wasn’t much of a choice. He would have to stop himself from kicking out. He closed his eyes and swallowed, feeling the weight of the collar. He knew it wouldn’t do any good to appeal to Yevin another way. He couldn’t run, couldn’t fight. “Just get it over with,” he said through clenched teeth.

“That’s not the right attitude. Looks like we’ll have to work on that.”

Yevin hovered over the dwarf, his hands on either side of his head, and went in for a kiss. Bofur pressed his lips closed against the tongue trying to force its way in. He squeaked in surprise and pain at the teeth that bit down on his lower lip. The tongue darted in, though he kept his teeth clenched. A hand gripped his lower jaw and squeezed at the joints to separate them.

“Don’t bite,” Yevin warned before he fully claimed Bofur’s mouth.

It was all Bofur could do to not bite down as Yevin’s tongue explored his mouth. His hands clenched into fists above his head as he gagged and tried to shake his head. The man’s grip on his chin was too strong for that. When Yevin retreated, Bofur coughed and sputtered.

“Good boy, you didn’t bite.”

Bofur opened his eyes, and saw the tent forming in the man’s breeches. “Please… don’t.”

“We’ve already been through that,” Yevin dismissed. He wriggled out of his underclothes, revelaing the hard and heavy cock, and sat on his knees beside Bofur’s. With one hand, he pushed Bofur’s legs up and held them there.

Bofur had to concentrate very hard to not kick Yevin in the head. He flinched at the splash of oil on his skin. It dripped down into his crack. One of Yevin’s fingers followed after it, stopping at Bofur’s entrance, still raw and hurting from yesterday’s abuse.

Bofur squeezed his eyes shut as that finger slowly pushed inside. He couldn’t hold back the whimpers as that finger went in and out. Then a second joined in, scissoring and stretching him. It was more preparation than Abner had done, but it was still painful. He couldn’t will his body to relax, to let go of the tension that came with not wanting this to happen.

“So tight…” Yevin commented. “Abner was right about dwarves. They always feel tight around a man’s cock.”

More oil was added, though it didn’t make it hurt any less, especially when the third finger pressed inside. Soon all three fingers were fucking him slowly. Bofur keened when he felt them go all the way in to the knuckles.

After a few more thrusts, Yevin withdrew his fingers, and started spreading oil along his cock. “I think you’re ready for me now.” He pushed Bofur’s legs apart and wriggled up through the space until Bofur’s tied ankles rested on the small of his back, allowing him to have a good angle.

Bofur’s hands were clenched into fists so tightly that his nails were digging into his palm. The blunt head of the man’s cock trailed down his crack until it got to his hole. It pressed against it a few times, then was forced inside.

Bofur opened his mouth in a wordless cry of pain, and he wriggled in an attempt to get away, but he couldn’t move any distance away with his legs around Yevin’s waist. Yevin kept slowly pushing in until he was fully sheathed. Bofur was shaking hard, and he was certain he had drawn blood from his palms. For a long moment, the man didn’t move, just let Bofur feel the invasive full length stretching and filling him. Bofur was breathing hard through clenched teeth.

Then Yevin pulled out halfway. He once again was still for a moment, then he rammed all the way back in, resulting in a loud long cry from Bofur’s throat. Yevin was true to his word, in that his pace wasn’t as fast or hard as Abner’s, but it was still too much. Even if it hadn’t been so soon after Abner’s abuse, it would’ve been too much.

Tears flowed from Bofur’s eyes and trailed down to his ears and hair as he cried out with every agonizing thrust. Mixed into his cries were pleas of “Stop! It hurts! Please!”

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Yevin pulled out and got from between the dwarf’s legs. A high-pitched whine accompanied every one of Bofur’s exhales, and a sob accompanied his inhales.

“You feel so good around me,” Yevin remarked, voice low and husky. “But we’re not done yet.”

Bofur opened his eyes, realizing that the man hadn’t come. Yevin straddled his chest and the still-erect cock bumped against his chin. He saw Yevin’s hand wrap around himself before he closed his eyes. He heard the hand sliding up and down the oil-slicked cock, and felt the rocking against his chest.

It didn’t take long for Yevin to bring himself to finish, moaning as he spent his seed. Bofur tensed and whimpered as the warm and sticky liquid shot out onto his face multiple times, leaving trails up to his forehead and pearling in his facial hair. He didn’t dare open his eyes or mouth.

“Now isn’t that a sight,” Yevin whispered.

Bofur turned his head to the side as Yevin’s thumb stroked down a trail of semen. His face was brought back up by a firm hand on his chin. Yevin scooted down his body until he settled on Bofur’s stomach, then wiped his now wet thumb across the dwarf’s bottom lip.

Bofur shuddered and tried to spit, but that just gave Yevin an opening to press his thumb past his lips. Bofur managed to keep his teeth clamped together. Yevin collected another trail on his thumb and pushed past Bofur’s lips again, this time coating the inside of his bottom lip with it.

“You should start getting used to the taste.” Yevin got up and started untying the ropes. “We’re done for today.”

Bofur could only lay there, utterly exhausted and aching. He flinched at the cool damp cloth that wiped up the mess on his face and scrubbed a little at his beard. Then Yevin pulled him up into a sitting position and helped him drink some water. The first sip he took, he spit out into his lap to get out the salty seed in his mouth.

That night, he once again clutched his hat close to his chest and prayed to Mahal that he would be rescued.

********

Bofur was used by Yevin alone every day for a week. Every time hurt as much as the last. He didn’t know if he wanted the pain to lessen or not. As long as it hurt, he knew he wasn’t submitting. But by Mahal, it hurt so damn much…

“We’re going to do something different today,” Yevin said as two of his dwarves tied Bofur to the bed differently than usual.

Bofur’s hands were tied together and to the headboard with one strand of rope, and they didn’t tie his feet together at all. “You mean that what you’ve been doing isn’t bad enough?” he bit out.

“We’re going to test your endurance.” Yevin told one of the dwarves to wait outside. To Bofur, “I’ll be watching this time.”

Bofur’s gaze flickered from Yevin, to the other dwarf’s lecherous expression, and back to the man. “Yevin, please! Don’t-“

“Are you saying you only want me? I must say I’m flattered, but really, I alone can’t train you completely. Besides, I’ve kept them from you long enough.”

“Please, don’t-“

“I promise I won’t let them get any rougher than I’ve been.” Yevin smiled and sat on a nearby chair, and gestured for his friend to go ahead.

Bofur quickly learned why he had been tied to the bed differently. It allowed him to be turned over onto his front.

He cried and whimpered his pain into the soft pillow as the dwarf took him, rutting deeply into him in an uneven rhythm. Tears soaked the pillow as the dwarf finished in him. Yevin hadn’t finished in him yet, instead opting to come on various places on his body.

He was given a few minutes before another of Yevin’s team came in. This man rolled Bofur onto his side, and lay behind him.

This time, Bofur retreated into his memories of happier times. He had done it a couple of times with Yevin. Going out drinking with his friends, tucking in his brother’s children, carving with Bifur…

A hard slap across the face brought him crashing back to the pain and humiliation of being violated. He looked up to see Yevin standing there, and let out a cry as the man fucking him thrust in particularly hard.

“Don’t think I don’t know when you do that,” the trainer warned.

The man behind him let out a loud groan as he came inside Bofur. Bofur weakly grasped at the sheets and pressed his face into them. Two… two had taken him so far. He was already so tired and in so much pain. How could he take more?

By the fourth, he could only express his pain through gasps, though his tears still flowed. He tried retreating into his memories again, but Yevin slapped him from them again.

By the sixth he could barely move, his body limp, his eyes open and glazed over, staring up past the shoulder of the dwarf fucking him now to the ceiling.

That one pulled out and came on Bofur’s thigh, then left. Bofur didn’t have the strength to turn his head when Yevin praised, “I think you did rather well. You’re still conscious, at any rate.”

Defiled… Bofur felt utterly defiled and filthy. His entire body hurt more than before. “Don’t…” he started, voice hoarse and weak. “Don’t… do this again... please…”

“Oh, Bofur,” Yevin said in a soft voice. His stroked the dwarf’s cheek with the backs of his fingers. After a moment, he said, “But we’re not done yet.”

“Please… no more…” Bofur finally turned his head to see that the trainer was naked, and his cock was hard. His hands gripped the pillow weakly. “Please! I can’t…” He had no reserve of strength to fight as Yevin climbed into the bed and straddled his upper chest.

The man ran his thumb over Bofur’s lips. “I think it’s time I used this pretty mouth you’ve got.” He took his cock and traced it where his thumb had been. He grabbed Bofur’s chin and pulled his head back when the dwarf tried to turn away. “Don’t bite.”

Fresh tears retread the now-dried tracks of the old ones as the man shoved his cock past lips and teeth into Bofur’s mouth. Part of him wanted to bite down, but the other part of him overruled, not wanting to be hurt any more today as punishment. Besides, he was just so tired…

He choked as the cock slid further in, and retched at the taste of the precum on the tip. Yevin grabbed the hair at the back of his head to force his head up and forward.

“Quite the view,” the man remarked. He pulled out until only the head was in Bofur’s mouth, then wiped away the fresh tears running down the dwarf’s cheek with his thumb. They were quickly replaced with more. He pushed back in, stopping halfway.

Bofur gagged and retched as his mouth was used. Though the man only thrusted in halfway each time, he felt like he would choke on the solid cock. He breathed in great heaves when Yevin pulled out completely to let him, his saliva dripping from his mouth, gathering in his beard. The man’s cock was also coated in it.

There was no warning before the trainer’s hot seed shot out into Bofur’s throat, and his entire body bucked with the shock and disgust. Yevin stroked the exposed part of his cock with his hand until he was completely spent. Bofur was desperately trying to hold it in, trying not to swallow, but the trainer had other plans. He pulled his softening cock out, and quickly covered Bofur’s mouth and nose with his hand.

“Swallow,” he ordered.

Bofur shook his head.

“You will when you need to breathe.”

Bofur held his breath as long as he could, which, in his battered and fatigued state, wasn’t long. He swallowed, and Yevin’s hand lifted, letting him breathe. His breaths were laced with coughs and sputtering. As soon as his hands were untied, he rolled over to the edge of the bed and let his head and arm hang limply as he tried to reject what he had just swallowed.

Yevin held Bofur’s hair back from his face. “That’s not good manners, but you’ll learn.”

That night, Bofur was too exhausted and ruined to remember to pray to Mahal.


	5. Chapter 5

Bofur’s eyes slowly opened, and with the action came all the pain left over from yesterday. He quickly shut them, with the hope that it would let him fall back into the ache-free sleep. It didn’t, and he simply lay there, biting his lip and tightly clutching his hat.

A few minutes later, he was startled into full consciousness by the sound of something rattling against the bars of his cell. “Hey!” a voice called. “Yevin says no training for you today, and you’re free to do as you like.” A chilling chuckle. “Though after what we did yesterday, I’m sure all you’ll be able to manage is lie in bed.” The person walked away, still laughing to himself.

Finally, a day of not being used? Though the training assistant had been right. All Bofur wanted was to lie here in bed, and not move for a long time. How could he, when every small shifting of his body brought an ache so deep he immediately regretted making it?

He felt his stomach growl, and groaned. He should eat. But for that, he would have to get up and walk to the slave dining area. And, despite the fact that he should eat, he had no desire to. What was the point, when the memories of yesterday made nausea roll in his stomach and head? When he would only vomit it back up after a few bites?

Bofur curled in tighter around himself. After a little while, he realized the opportunity that was presented to him now. No one would be expecting him, would be coming for him today. He could try to escape. He swallowed past the pain and sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. No one would expect him to, not after what he had suffered yesterday.

He sat there, breathing slowly and thinking of which exit he had found that was the least guarded. Once he settled on that, he knew he would have to somehow take a set of keys from a guard. He was no Nori, but he would figure out a way.

With a deep breath, Bofur pushed himself up to his feet, and nearly pitched forward to the floor. He grabbed the edge of the mattress in time, and turned around to face the bed, using it to fully support himself. Once certain that his legs would support his weight, he pushed himself up.

“One step at a time,” he muttered. “You can do it, Bofur.”

His worst hangover was nothing compared to this. He could power through those, but this? He would gladly take a hangover twice as bad as his worst over this. At least then he would be sure of his ability to walk.

It took more than a few shaky steps on unsteady legs before he was able to walk around his room without leaning against the wall for support. Once he got going, the pain in his lower half seemed to lessen to a tolerable level.

“Right,” he breathed, grabbing his hat from the bed. “Now to find keys, and that door.” He could only hope he would be able to run when he left the building.

********

It didn’t take much for him to be able to steal a set of keys. He had easily distracted a guard by stumbling into him, and lifting the keys from his belt when the guard helped him back to his feet. He quickly hid the keys in his hat and held it tightly closed as he apologized. His memory of the particular exit he wanted to use hadn’t failed him, and to his fortune, the guard on post at the end of the short corridor seemed tired to the point of nodding off.

Putting on the best smile he could manage, Bofur strode up to the guarding dwarf. “Rough night last night?”

The guard startled awake, but relaxed at seeing the unarmed slave. “Yeah, a bit. Late party in the town.”

“You’re not going to be much good at your job in that state. Should I get someone to relieve you?”

The guard rubbed his eyes. “You’re right. No, I’ll get someone. Not like you’re getting out without my keys, anyway.” He stood from his chair and ambled down the hallway.

As soon as the guard turned the corner, Bofur dumped the keys from his hat into his hand and started trying each one in the lock on the door. He kept an ear out for approaching footsteps, and let out a frustrated whispered, “Come on,” after the fourth key didn’t work.

The next one did, and he quickly shoved the door open, stepped out, and firmly closed it. There was a lock on this side of the door as well, and he quickly relocked it.

Bofur breathed in the noon-time air and glanced around. He determined he was on a side of the huge building, since he could see the town. He set off straight ahead, remembering that the people of the town probably wouldn’t be sympathetic to his cause, and they would instantly know what he was, dressed in nothing but a collar and loincloth. It was the opposite way of home, but he had to get far enough away before he could double back in that direction.

With a burst of hope that accompanied the sight of the sun and open land, he started to run. He ran, feet sometimes slipping on the grass, but always managing to catch himself and continue on. He had to put as much distance between himself and that terrible place as possible before stopping to rest. He would have to worry about finding clothes and travel supplies later. Right now, he just had to run, and not stop.

But the deep aching pain became too much for him, and his legs suddenly collapsed. He landed face-first on the ground, arms underneath. He groaned as he pushed himself up enough to glance behind. He had made it a fair distance, and didn’t see anyone following.

Bofur tried to push himself back up, but his arms gave way, and his legs wouldn’t move. His breaths came out with whimpers of pain. His fingers twisted in the grass as he tried to force his body to obey. “Come on,” he coaxed. “Have to get further before rest. Have to.” But his body didn’t listen, and all he could do was lie there.

He didn’t know how long he laid there, the sun warm on his back and the grass cool on his front. His eyes snapped open at the voice from behind.

“Just how far did you think you’d make it in your condition?”

Bofur desperately tried to push himself up, but still didn’t have the strength. He reached out with a hand and grasped at the grass, trying to inch his way forward. Anything to get away. He grunted as he was kicked onto his back, to be met by Yevin staring down at him, and two guards a few feet behind. He tried to scramble backwards, but his trainer’s heavy foot on his chest pinned him down effectively.

“Look at you… You can’t even stand. And you thought you were going to actually escape?”

“Don’t take me back there,” Bofur pleaded. “Just let me go. Please.”

Yevin rolled his eyes. “I told you before, we’re not going through all that again. Besides, I don’t think you would last long. No clothes, food, weapons, anything.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

“I know you would, but you’re not going to.” Yevin removed his foot and gestured to the guards, who quickly seized Bofur’s arms and dragged him halfway up.

Bofur had no strength to fight back, to even put up a token struggle. All he could do was clutch his hat in a death-grip as he was dragged back to that place, and curse the man who had caught him.

********

Bofur cried out as he was thrown to the floor once they entered a room. He saw Yevin pick up his hat from where it had fallen, then step back.

“Don’t beat him too badly,” the trainer said to the guards.

Bofur barely had time to register what was said before a kick to his stomach forced the air from his lungs.

The beating was mercifully short, but it still hurt, and he would have more than a few bruises to add to the pain left over from yesterday.

The guards stepped back, and Yevin crouched down near Bofur’s head. “You want to know a secret?” he asked, tone mocking. He didn’t wait for an answer. “We let you leave.”

Bofur looked up, shaking his head. “No…” Though now that he thought on it, it had been too easy.

“Oh yes. I thought you might try something today. You’re too spirited to let an opportunity go past, no matter how much you’re hurting. And now you’ll learn not to do that again.”

He was sat in a chair in the middle of the room, and tied to it with his hands behind his back and his ankles to the legs of the chair. Yevin made a show of brushing his hat free of any lingering dirt, and carefully placed it on Bofur’s lap.

“I’ll come back tomorrow to feed you,” Yevin said. He whispered something to the guards, then left. One followed him and closed the door.

The guard left behind sat in a chair near the door and pulled out a piece of wood and a carving knife. Bofur jealously watched as he whittled away, wishing he could do it. He wasn’t able to carve, to play a flute, to do something that would be a connection to his life.

After a few minutes, he couldn’t take it anymore, and tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling. He didn’t understand what this punishment was. Beating him, then tying him to a chair with the promise of feeding him tomorrow? Did Yevin think he was going to be bored into submission? He started singing songs in his head, the words occasionally coming out from his mouth.

He found out what the punishment was some time later, when his head tipped forward and his eyes closed, his body intent on sleep. A hard backhand across the face instantly woke him.

“You won’t be doing any of that for awhile yet,” the guard stated, going back to his seat.

Sleep deprivation? For how long? This was unexpected, though he would gladly take it over being used by all of Yevin’s team again. He could take this. He’d had the occasional sleepless night in his life. It wouldn’t be the suffering and shame he had been through since his capture.

But then he eventually realized that no sleep meant no break from the aches and pains of his body. No break into peaceful dark bliss. No break into dreaming about his family and friends. Yes, he still called up the memories, but it was interrupted with the physical pain he was still all too aware of.

_“You know, Bofur, you’re the best brother anyone could ask for, despite your teasing.”_

_“Please, Uncle Bofur, sing us a few songs before bed?”_

_“Come on, Bofur, let’s head out for a pint. I’ll pay.”_

_“Here, Bofur, you need to make the cuts in this direction to connect the joints to make the wings move.”_

He didn’t notice the guard switching out with another. But he did notice Yevin come in with a plate of food and cup of water.

“I really do hate to do this to you, but you do need to learn,” the trainer said.

For a moment, Bofur clenched his mouth closed in defiance. But his stomach growled loudly, and he remembered he hadn’t eaten anything yesterday. He reluctantly opened his mouth and accepted the piece of meat from the man’s fingers. After he chewed and swallowed, he said, “Too bad you don’t hate what you do to me on a daily basis.”

“You know that’s not going to work, making me feel bad or guilty.”

Bofur ate the rest of the meal in silence. Once all the food and water were gone, Yevin ran his thumb over the dwarf’s bottom lip. Bofur turned his head away. Yevin did it again, and Bofur lunged forward, nearly biting the fingers that had just fed him.

“Now what did I say about biting? Do you want this to go on longer than I’ve planned for?”

Bofur snorted, not answering. If it kept him away from being trained, he would take it.

********

Bofur didn’t know how long he was in that room, how long he was forced to stay awake with slaps and backhands. He got lost in his memories, though they now blended into each other, confusing and disorienting him. The pain from the last time he had been used started to fade, but he was so tired. So thoroughly exhausted.

Then memories, terrible memories of this place started to mix in between his memories of home. He relived Abner claiming him. He relived all of Yevin’s team taking him one at a time. He would desperately try to cling to the images of his family, his friends, only for them to fade into his own screams of agony.

Surely he was hallucinating, when he saw Bifur standing in front of him, eyes full of love. Bofur smiled, and let out a little delirious laugh. Bifur had come to save him. But then he realized his cousin’s head was missing the axe, and the image dissipated.

That happened again and again with various people from his life. His brother, his sister-in-law, his nieces and nephews, his best friend… They were going to drive him mad… The people he loved were going to drive him mad…

*******

Bofur didn’t notice when his hands and feet were untied, when he was carried from the room, until he was lowered into a bed.

Sleep. His eyes closed. He unconsciously clutched his hat to his chest and turned over to face the wall. Sleep.

He fell into that warm peaceful dark.


	6. Chapter 6

A little groan escaped through Bofur’s slightly parted lips as he came back into awareness. A hand was on his shoulder, and for a blissful moment, he thought he was a child again, a hand from one of his parents or his cousin comforting him after a nightmare. And what a nightmare he’d had. One that had left a physical ache. One that had gone on far too long.

Then he realized the hand was the wrong size and weight for it to be his family touching him. His eyes snapped open and he quickly turned over, clarity rushing into his mind.

“Hello, nice to see you awake.”

Bofur sat up and scooted backwards, until his back was pressed against the wall. Sitting in a chair so close to his bed was the most prominent figure in this nightmare. He brought his hat up to his face at the stinging of tears in his eyes. It was real. It was still real.

“How are you feeling?” Yevin inquired.

Bofur didn’t bother wiping the leaking tears as he lowered his hat to look at the man. “How… how long was I there? How long did you…?”

Yevin shook his head. “Doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me!” Bofur growled through clenched teeth.

“I’m sure it does, but I’m not going to tell you.”

“Please…”

“As much as I like hearing you say that particular word, I’m not telling you.” Yevin cleared his throat and stood. “Now, I’m going to take you for a bath, then to eat. And then… well, we’ll see from there.”

Bofur didn’t struggle as the trainer took him by the arm and pulled him from the bed. He still felt utterly exhausted. Though much of the pain had faded, he was so very tired. He dropped his hat on the bed, and staggered after Yevin, pulled along by the wrist.

The bath didn’t make him feel clean, no matter how hard he scrubbed. As long as he was in this place, he knew he would never feel clean. Could he ever, even if he managed to escape or was rescued?

Bofur was silent as he ate. The food somehow didn’t taste right, as though his taste buds had become affected by this place. But he ate, even though he didn’t want to. He had to keep his strength up.

“How did you think I was going to punish you for attempting escape?” Yevin suddenly asked.

Bofur stared down at his plate and put another piece of bread in his mouth. After he chewed and swallowed, Yevin gripped his chin and turned his head to face him. Bofur kept his gaze down. “I wasn’t expecting… not like that.”

“Did you think I was going to lock you in a room with a bunch of horny trainers and give them free reign?”

“Something… something like that.” Bofur shivered as the man’s thumb flickered over his bottom lip.

“You’ll be trained on serving a group at the same time at some point anyway. No point in making it a punishment.”

Bofur’s eyes widened and flicked up to meet Yevin’s gaze. “Please, don’t. Please-“

“Doing something sexual as punishment wouldn’t mean anything. It’s why you’re here. So, we have some non-sexual punishments, that won’t leave scars, for occasions like this.” Yevin released his hold on the dwarf’s chin.

Bofur picked up the spoon and ate a few mouthfuls of the meat stew. His hand froze halfway up to his mouth, and his hand shook, spilling some of the stew back into the bowl, at the question, “Did you see your family while in there?”

After a moment, Yevin stood and patted Bofur’s shoulder. “Finish up. When Abner gets back from his business in town, he wants to see you.” Then he walked away.

The spoon dropped from Bofur’s hand, falling into the half-full bowl, sending a splash of broth up. He pushed the bowl and plate aside, suddenly feeling sick to his stomach. He brought his hands together tightly, and huddled in on himself.

That was where and how Yevin found him when he came to take him to Abner.

He was taken to the same lush room as his first presentation to Abner, and the man was already waiting, sitting on the edge of the bed, a sick sort of anticipating grin on his face.

When the door closed, Yevin let go of Bofur’s arm, and pushed him forward. Abner ordered him to come forward and kneel. Bofur kept his gaze down and went closer, but didn’t kneel.

“Closer,” Abner beckoned.

Bofur took another few steps, until the man was within reach.

“And I said on your knees.”

Bofur set his jaw and looked to him in defiance. He wasn’t Abner’s to command, and was determined not to be.

Abner sighed. In one quick movement, he kicked Bofur’s shin, causing him to fall to one knee. “Better.”

Bofur made to get back to his feet, but Abner’s hand clamped down on his shoulder, painfully squeezing where it joined his neck.

“I do love your spirit,” the man commented before letting go. “I hope you enjoyed the fresh air you got in your little escape attempt.”

Bofur didn’t reply, though his hands clenched into fists.

“Well, I hope you learned your lesson.” Abner’s hand went around the back of Bofur’s head and tightly seized his hair to yank him in until he was on both knees between his legs. He glanced to Yevin. “You teach him not to bite yet?”

“Think so.” Yevin approached and bent over to say into the dwarf’s ear, “Don’t bite. If you do, I’ve got more punishments like the one before.”

Bofur’s hands clenched tighter. He couldn’t go through that again, through the hallucinations of his loved ones again, along with whatever else Yevin had in mind. But he couldn’t allow this man to use him, not willingly. He tried to push away, to stand up, but Abner managed to hold him down until Yevin quickly fetched a couple lengths of rope from a drawer.

Bofur put up a struggle as Yevin tied his hands behind his back, then his bound hands to his ankles. The hellish and impossible choice had now been taken from him, but at least he knew he hadn’t submitted willingly.

Abner quickly undid the lacing of his trousers and breeches and pushed them down off his hips, exposing his half-hard cock. Bofur closed his eyes and his body began trembling.

“Come now, I know Yevin has used your mouth before.”

Bofur immediately tried to push away as his face was slammed down into the man’s crotch. He was held there for a long moment before the man yanked his head back up.

It took a minute of maneuvering to force his jaw open and shove the cock in his mouth. Bofur had to force himself to not bite. He couldn’t face that punishment again, not so soon.

Abner held him down again, and he had no choice. He gagged and choked, and though he didn’t actively do anything, he could feel the invading thing firming in his mouth. It didn’t take long for Abner to become fully hard, and he allowed Bofur to breathe.

The man tugged on the ends of Bofur’s mustache and stroked his goatee with a thumb. “Smile for me.”

Bofur didn’t obey. He couldn’t. How could he be expected to smile, at any point in all this? To smile at the people abusing him? To smile for them? To act like he was happy with this? That he wanted this?

“No matter, I’m sure Yevin will train you on that.” Abner yanked Bofur’s head back and bent down for a rough kiss. Then his free hand joined the other at the back of the dwarf’s head, and forced him down again.

Tears began streaming down Bofur’s face, and saliva gathered in his beard as his mouth was brutally used. The thick and heavy cock invasive, bumping the back of his throat every time his head went down. Both of the large hands giving the man complete control. Abner sometimes held him down for longer than a few seconds, making him choke before letting him up to snatch a few quick breaths, then fucking his mouth again. His jaw hurt, stretched around the shaft. His vision blurred from tears. His shoulders ached from the position of his hands behind his back. His knees protested being on the hard floor for so long.

All he could do was cry and sob as this man fiercely abused his mouth.

Abner came, his seed shooting down Bofur’s throat, and held a hand over his mouth and nose to make him swallow. He let go, and Bofur keeled over and down to the floor, curling in on himself as much as the ropes would allow. Bofur retched and breathed and coughed, his entire head and neck hurting in some way.

How could he keep surviving this?

********

Lost. He was lost.

He had lost track of how long he had been here. And in the end, the exact number of days wouldn’t matter. The damage was done.

His first training session with a group had been absolute hell, and as he laid in bed that night, he had no idea how he had survived it, survived being used by so many at the same time. Was it because he was still strong, or was it because they had already taken enough of him by that session?

Then he had been opened up to use by clients. The first time hadn’t been anything too bad, just one man for a straightforward use, but he had been terrified. Better the devil he knew, right?

But then he had become a popular slave. For individuals and groups. He preferred when he was booked for training instead of clients. Even though he did have a few regulars, he knew Yevin, he knew Yevin’s team, he knew Abner. He knew what they wanted, how they were. He knew, despite however rough they might be, they knew his limits. They wouldn’t hurt him too badly.

He lost his hope of escape or rescue. Besides, even if by some miracle it happened, did he really want his family to find him like this? To see him so defiled, filthy, used, abused… diminished to nothing more than a submissive sex slave? How could he face them, knowing that he had submitted to these people, let them have him in this way? He had fought, but he could only fight for so long, and in the end… he still gave in.

He survived. But what good was surviving if he couldn’t recover? If he couldn’t be how he was before all this?

They had taken him, body and soul.

Lost. He was lost.


	7. Chapter 7

Bilbo Baggins considered himself a collector of sorts, of anything he could find that didn’t come from Hobbiton, or other places within the Shire. Small weapons, trinkets, books… Bree was the nearest place where he could find such things in the market, so he would take occasional trips to the town on the eastern edge of the Shire.

Bilbo was at the market, examining an elvish dagger, which the stall owner claimed was from the other side of the Misty Mountains. He looked up and across the square, and furrowed his brow at the sight of a diverse group of people, men and dwarves, being led out the back of a covered wagon in a line, going into a supply storehouse. All were dressed in simple white loincloths, and had collars around their necks. He glanced to the stall owner, then back again. “What’s going on over there?”

“Slave auction, of a special sort, if you get my meaning. I’ll be closing up soon myself, to check it out.” The man grinned to Bilbo. “You look like you could do with one yourself.”

“No, I…” Bilbo’s voice trailed off. One slave, a dwarf with long dark hair and a long mustache and goatee, turned his head in Bilbo’s direction, and caught the hobbit’s eye. Bilbo couldn’t be certain with the distance between them, but it was as though the dwarf’s face was begging for help. His heart quickly leapt in his chest, pulling at him to answer that call.

It was all he caught of the dwarf before he was shoved along the line and inside. “Maybe I will check it out,” Bilbo said, turning to the stall owner. He set down the dagger.

“Something strike your fancy then?”

Bilbo swallowed and backed away from the stall. “You could say that.” As he hurried to the front door of the storehouse, and went inside to join a throng of anticipated people gathered in front of a small platform, his mind raced. Slavery? Sex slavery? He’d never heard of it during his other trips here. He couldn’t imagine such a trade, and now he had stumbled upon an auction for it.

A hand tapping his shoulder yanked Bilbo from his thoughts. A man smiled and said, “There’s a space up here for you, friend. Need a hand up?”

Bilbo nodded, and let himself be lifted up onto a stack of boxes so he could see over everyone’s heads. He then felt confusion for a few seconds. The pleasant kindness of the man, who wanted to make sure he could see and was comfortable, somehow seemed at odds with his excitement for the slave auction to begin, the excitement to possibly get a person to use and hurt. Bilbo couldn’t help but wonder how many other people he had met were also here.

Someone stepped up on the platform and raised his hands. “People of Bree, you are once again first along our way, and as such, get first chance to purchase our goods...”

Bilbo tuned him out and calculated how much money he had on him. He already had paid in advance another night at the inn, so he only needed to worry about paying the merchant wagon that would take him most the way back to Hobbiton, and for whatever expenses the dwarf he might rescue would need now. It was fortunate this had happened before he had spent much of his money.

Bilbo let out a wince that went unnoticed by the man standing next to him as the crowd cheered when the first slave was brought out. The young man’s gaze was faraway, and while he wasn’t bruised or otherwise beaten, he looked so weary. Bilbo wished he had the money to buy all the slaves who were to be shown. But he didn’t. He only had enough for one, and he had already chosen the one. It wasn’t fair, but none of this was to the slaves. He could only help one.

He did listen to the offers from the audience, getting a feel for how much they had to spend. It was low enough to give him confidence. As the third was brought up, Bilbo couldn’t believe what he was doing. He was at a slave auction, about to buy one. His intentions weren’t bad, far from it. But it was still a strange feeling, to know that he was going to purchase a person, and everyone here would know it.

Bilbo straightened up when the next slave was brought onstage. The dwarf he had seen. The auctioneer said, “This one’s name is Bofur, and I must say he’s quite the handsome dwarf…”

Bilbo looked into the dwarf’s face, Bofur’s eyes somehow expressing the earlier plea for help, and hopeless resignation at the same time. Then Bofur smiled, and Bilbo was taken aback. How was he smiling at all this? Then he realized the smile, while bright and showing teeth, didn’t reach his eyes. It wasn’t genuine, and it looked like he had been told to do so. His eyes were still sad and despairing.

Like with the others before, the auctioneer turned Bofur around and lifted his loincloth so the audience could see what they would be getting. Bilbo almost closed his eyes to respect Bofur’s personhood, but he had to appear ready for this, in case anyone looked at him.

The dwarf’s body was fit and toned. There were no bruises or scratches or any marks that looked like physical abuse. Bilbo hesitantly admitted to himself that Bofur was indeed handsome and attractive. Maybe if they had met under different circumstances…

The betting began, and Bilbo was able to easily keep up with the rising amounts. Then he upped his final offer enough to hopefully indicate that he meant business, that he wanted Bofur and no one else was going to take him. He let out a breath of relief when the auctioneer announced that Bofur was sold to him, and pointed him to a side room to do the transaction.

Bilbo slid down off the stack of boxes and hurried through the crowd, was waved through into the side room by a guard, and waited. It was only a moment before a man with blonde hair with a bag slung over his shoulder led Bofur in by the arm. He didn’t immediately go to Bilbo, though. The hobbit watched as he took a moment to speak quietly to Bofur. At the end of the one-sided conversation, the man pulled him into a kiss, slightly rough. Bofur didn’t push back, just let it happen, even responding with a little answering pressure.

Bilbo shook his head and cleared his throat when the two separated and approached him. He shook the hand the man offered as he introduced himself as “Yevin. I was Bofur’s trainer.”

“Trainer?”

“You think we just pick them up and immediately sell them?” Yevin answered, his tone friendly and light. “No, we make certain they are quality.”

“Oh, right. Of course.” Bilbo took his coinpurse from his pocket. “Bilbo Baggins.”

Yevin counted out the coins Bilbo handed him, and nodded. “That’s all in order.” He dug in the bag and pulled out a set of simple clothes and gave them to Bofur. “Go over there and get dressed.” Bofur obeyed without a word. Once the dwarf was out of earshot, Yevin said, “Wouldn’t be considered decent for him to walk around like that outside, no matter how… alluring he is.”

Bilbo nodded. “Unfortunate, that.” He nearly flinched back as Yevin gave him the bag and leaned in close.

“You may do as you wish in this of course, but I have a suggestion for if he acts up and needs to be punished,” the trainer started. “There’s a hat in the bag. He doesn’t wear it, but he is very attached to it, even sleeps with it. Take it away from him for a night or so, and he’ll cooperate.”

“Does he… need that often? Punishment, I mean.”

Yevin shook his head. “But he could still get a little excited. New environment, new master, new rules… he might forget his place, at first.”

“Right. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Bofur returned, now dressed in a grey tunic and trousers.

“Greet your master,” Yevin prompted.

The dwarf bowed his head with a little smile. In a lilting and fair voice, he said, “Bofur, at your service.”

Bilbo quickly noticed the expectant look from Yevin, and realized the man wouldn’t leave until he did a certain thing. He mentally asked Bofur to forgive him, and placed his hands on the sides of the dwarf’s head to pull him down into a kiss. He didn’t let it get too deep, and nearly jumped back when Bofur’s lips pressed against his with their answering pressure, like he had seen him do with Yevin.

Bilbo pulled back after a short moment, then looked to Yevin, planting a pleased smile on his face. “On first impression, it seems you’ve trained him well. Is there anything else we need to do? I’m staying at the nearby inn, and I’d love to get back as soon as possible.”

Yevin chuckled. “Can’t wait, huh? You won’t be disappointed.” He shook his head in answer. “Our business is done. Oh, and the key to his collar is in the bag as well. Enjoy him. He was a delight to train.”

“I most certainly will. Thank you.” Bilbo nodded to Bofur, and beckoned, “Come on.”

They left through the back door. As much as Bilbo wanted to just rip the collar off the dwarf and ask him where his home was the second they were outside, he didn’t. He couldn’t do that. Not yet.

Bilbo didn’t take Bofur directly to the inn. They needed to do a bit of shopping first. He led him to a clothing shop. Bofur wasn’t any help when Bilbo asked him what he wanted, answering with “Whatever you want on me.”

Based on what Bilbo had seen the dwarves around Bree wearing, he picked out a couple sets of clothes that would make Bofur look like a proper dwarf, and hopefully feel like one again. Bofur did silently have input, by feeling, then laying a hand on a few articles of clothing. It looked to Bilbo like he wasn’t trying to choose, and he did it when he thought Bilbo wasn’t looking.

With that done, Bilbo took him to the inn. He bought meals, and handed the plates to Bofur before going upstairs to his room. Once inside, Bilbo dropped the bag from Yevin, which he had also put Bofur’s new clothes in, by the door.

Bofur set the food on the small table. Bilbo gestured for him to sit, before turning and fishing a key from the bag. He quickly undid Bofur’s collar, and as tempted as he was to throw it into the fireplace, he didn’t. It would probably still be expected for him to wear a collar while they were in Bree.

“Do you not like the one they supplied?” Bofur asked.

Bilbo was glad that Bofur was able to speak without being prompted to. In answer, he said, “Not really.” He turned the object over in his hands, noticing that the dwarf’s name was engraved into the leather. “After we leave here tomorrow, I won’t make you wear it again, and I won’t get you another one.”

Bofur nodded and smiled in acknowledgment, though Bilbo hoped it also expressed gladness at not having to wear a collar again.

They started eating, and after a minute, Bilbo asked, “Where are you from?”

“Ered Luin.”

Bilbo didn’t press for details. He could get those later, once he had assured Bofur that he wouldn’t hurt him. “Well, I live in Hobbiton, in the Shire.”

“All green grass and rolling hills, so I’ve heard,” Bofur replied.

“That’s a good description.” Another few moments of quiet eating. “What were you, in Ered Luin?”

“Miner, sometimes toymaker. More than occasional drinker of ale.”

Bilbo smiled, relieved to find that Yevin hadn’t completely taken the dwarf’s charm and personality from him. Then again, a slave with some personality would be better than one without. “So you’re good with your hands, then?”

“Very much so.”

Bofur’s slightly sultry tone made Bilbo realized what he had just insinuated. He didn’t say anything else as they ate, not wanting to accidently do it again.

After the finished dinner, Bilbo said, “Listen, we’ve got a cart to catch early in the morning, back home. I’m calling it an early night.”

Bofur looked somewhat confused. “I thought you wanted to come back here quickly to… to have me. Test me out before we go.”

“No, that was what Yevin assumed. I’m not going to…” Bilbo’s nose twitched. “One day at a time.” He took off his jacket and smiled. “You can sleep in that bed.”

“As you wish.”

“Goodnight. See you in the morning.” Bilbo pulled the blanket over himself and turned onto his side, facing the door.

He didn’t fall asleep quickly, but stayed quiet and still to observe Bofur. The dwarf stared into the fireplace for a long while before snuffing out the lamps. In the dimness of the room, Bofur went over to the bag and dug through it. Bilbo caught the shape of a hat with side flaps that stuck out in a distinct way before the dwarf went to his bed. Bilbo quietly turned his head to watch as Bofur laid down, facing away from him, body curled up under the blanket.

What an unexpected turn of events. He could only hope he could help Bofur with giving him a safe environment, recovering, getting him home, anything he could do.

He wanted to see Bofur smile, a genuine one that lit up his entire face, that showed a spark in those eyes. He would do anything to get him to smile like that, to make him whole again.


	8. Chapter 8

“Last time you’ll ever have to wear this wretched thing,” Bilbo assured as he secured the collar around Bofur’s neck. He noticed the dwarf open his mouth for a second, but quickly close it. “If you want to say something, you can,” Bilbo prompted.

Bofur was quiet for a moment, then hesitantly inquired, “Why don’t you want me to ever wear a collar?”

“Because you’re not… you’re not… You don’t have to anymore,” Bilbo answered with a smile.

Bofur let out a small sigh of confusion and slightly shook his head at the idea. He went over to the bag and pulled out some of the new clothes he had gotten. “It doesn’t hurt to wear. It’s not at all uncomfortable.”

Bilbo turned around to the window when Bofur started changing his clothes. “It’s… What do you want?”

“What do I want? I hardly see how that matters. My purpose is to serve you.”

“Forget purpose. What do you want?” At the lack of an answer, Bilbo turned around as Bofur buttoned up his shirt. “You can answer freely. I won’t punish you for it.”

Bofur shook his head and pulled on the light jacket. “It doesn’t matter.”

Bilbo decided not to push him. It was obvious he would need time to build up trust. He did quietly assure, “I won’t punish you for anything.”

“You’re my master, you’re supposed to for certain transgressions.”

Bilbo let out a little sigh as he finished packing his travel bag. He wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Perhaps Bofur thought he was trying to get his guard down, lure him into a sense of freedom he didn’t think he had, so he could be punished for it. This was going to be harder than Bilbo thought.

“Right,” Bilbo said. “Quick spot of breakfast, then we’re on our way home.”

Bofur shouldered the bag with his things in it, and opened the door, gesturing for the hobbit to lead the way. Breakfast was quick and quiet, and then they were climbing onto an empty space on a merchant wagon.

For a little while, Bilbo was content to simply watch Bofur as the dwarf took in the sights, the sunny and green landscape. There was a slight smile on his face as he simply breathed in the cool morning air.

Then Bilbo realized he still had the collar on. He dug into his bag for the key and told Bofur to turn a bit. “Sorry, I should’ve taken it off right after we left Bree,” he apologized as he unlocked the clasp and removed it from around the dwarf’s neck. He stuffed it into his bag, intent on burning it when they reached his home.

Bofur turned back around. “You meant that then?”

“Yes, I did. Listen… where’s your home?”

“If you mean where I’m from, it doesn’t matter. My home is… it’s wherever yours is.”

Bilbo held back the frustrated exhale. “What do you think I would do with that information? Please answer me honestly?”

“Master… you don’t need to do this. You don’t need to make me say something you don’t like, make me think about things you don’t like. I am yours to do with as you please. You don’t need any excuse to do things with me… to me.”

Bilbo ran a hand over his mouth at the title the dwarf had called him. “Bofur, I’m not going to hurt you.”

“You wouldn’t be hurting me, especially not with what you bought me for. I was trained so that you won’t hurt me. And if you do, it’s of no consequence.”

“Of no consequence? What do you want, Bofur?”

“That does not matter. The only thing that does is what you want.” Bofur smiled, and it unsettled Bilbo. “I am for your pleasure, Master.”

Bilbo looked away, down to the ground rolling beneath their hanging feet. “Don’t call me that. Master, I mean.”

“What would you have me call you?”

“By my name. Bilbo.” Bilbo cleared his throat. “Is Bofur a good name to call you by?”

“Why shouldn’t it be? I’ve been called that my whole life.”

“It’s a nice name. Fits you,” Bilbo commented.

“Bilbo… Baggins?” Bofur looked the hobbit up and down. “Can’t say that’s a bad fit for you. Would you… would you tell me what hobbits are like?”

Bilbo let out a chuckle at the question. At least the dwarf did still have a curiosity of his own. “I’m not exactly the best example of them as a whole…”

********

The travelling wasn’t too bad, with the weather staying fair as they rode, then walked to Hobbiton.

“Hello, Mister Bilbo!” called out a man tending his garden as they walked past. “Who’s that with you?”

“My… my friend. Bofur. He’ll be staying with me a little while.”

“He’s a dwarf…” the other hobbit noticed.

“Well, you meet all sorts in Bree. Must go, my hearth and armchair are calling to me.”

Bofur waited until they were out of earshot before asking, “Why didn’t you tell him what I really am?”

“No need to. I told you that I’m considered eccentric. They’ll accept that I’ve brought home a dwarf friend.”

Bofur didn’t speak for the rest of the way to Bag End. He did politely smile and bow his head at whatever other hobbits they passed, not remarking on the strange looks they gave him. Bilbo had warned him that they would do that.

“Ah, here we are,” Bilbo said, opening a small gate and going up to the round green door. He pulled out a key from his pocket, opened the door, and gestured Bofur go in first. The dwarf did, and Bilbo told him, “Please take your boots off at the door.”

Bofur obeyed, glancing around the house as he did so. “This is nice. Definitely different from any house I’ve seen, too.”

“Glad you like it. Come on, let me show you around.”

When they got to the guest bedroom, and Bilbo said this was where Bofur would be sleeping, Bofur simply nodded and placed his bag down on the floor next to the bed. “Aye… looks comfortable enough.”

“I’ll get it made up after dinner.” Bilbo started to head for the kitchen, but turned back. He should probably get Bofur to do as many normal things as he was willing to. “Are you any good in the kitchen?”

“I know the basics, though cooking was more…” A faraway wistful expression came over Bofur’s face. After a few seconds he shook his head, then nodded. “If you want me to help, I can.”

Bilbo hoped Bofur hadn’t interpreted the request as an order. “Well come along then.”

After dinner, Bilbo threw Bofur’s collar into the fireplace, along with the key, and watched it burn into ash. Bofur seemed transfixed by the sight, and didn’t move until long after it had burned.

 

 

Three days passed. Bofur settled in well enough. Bilbo tried not to say anything that could be misinterpreted as sexual, though he did fail a few times, and was subject to Bofur’s sensual responses. He also didn’t touch Bofur, not even in a friendly way. He really did not want to give any wrong impression. Bofur would need space to understand and recover.

Bilbo also didn’t ask Bofur about his home or life before all this. It wouldn’t do any good to keep pushing him when he didn’t want to answer. It might even make him more withdrawn if he wasn’t careful about it. Hopefully in time, Bofur would open up to him. But for now, Bilbo couldn’t force it.

“I don’t understand,” Bofur suddenly stated that evening as they finished washing the dishes.

“You don’t understand what?”

“Sorry, it’s nothing. I… I shouldn’t question.” Bofur dried his hands, then went to the sitting room.

Bilbo quickly followed, and found the dwarf standing there, staring into the flames flickering in the fireplace. “Bofur?”

“It’s… it’s nothing. Doesn’t matter.”

“I won’t make you tell me about whatever’s bothering you, but if you want to, you’re free to.”

Bofur’s hands at his sides started to shake, and he bit his lip. “I shouldn’t question. You’re my master.”

“I won’t punish you for asking me whatever it is.” Bilbo didn’t want to push, but they wouldn’t make any progress if Bofur kept everything bottled up inside.

“I don’t understand. It’s been… three days since we got here, four since you bought me.” Bofur turned to face the hobbit, confusion and a hint of fear on his face. “You haven’t touched me once. You haven’t responded to my offers, haven’t made any demands of your own. Are you… are you waiting for something? Saving me for some special occasion? A party? If you are, please tell me.”

“Oh, Bofur. No, I’m not. I’m not saving you for an occasion.”

“Then… why? It’s been four days, and you haven’t even touched me.”

“I thought I’d made it clear that I wasn’t going to hurt you.”

“You wouldn’t be hurting me. Whatever you want to do, I’ll be fine.”

“Doing anything of that sort would be hurting you.”

Bofur raised his hand to his mouth.

“You’re free, Bofur. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. Don’t you get that?”

Bofur shook his head. He lowered his hand and replied, “I’m not. You bought me. My purpose is to serve you.”

“I’m not holding you to that. I bought you, yes. But to help you, not hurt you.”

“I-I don’t believe you.”

“That’s my intent, believe it or not. You’re free to stay here as long as you need, until you want to go home, wherever that is for you.”

Bofur wrapped his arms around himself. “You… you want me to agree to that, say I want to go home, say I fully intend to leave… so you can have a reason for punishing me. But you don’t need a reason to touch me, to… to beat me… to have me… I’m yours to do with as you please.”

Bilbo took a few steps forward. “Not at all,” he said softly. “I don’t want to do any of that to you.”

Bofur shook his head, still disbelieving.

Bilbo stepped closer again, and raised his hands to grip Bofur’s arms, but stopped halfway up and dropped them to his sides. “I am not going to hurt you, and that includes using you for sex.”

“You… you don’t want me to know what it is you’re saving me for. Fine, I understand, and I won’t ask again.”

“No, Bofur, please-“

Bofur dropped to his knees, and looked up to the hobbit’s face. “You’ll use me, because that’s my purpose. Whenever, however… doesn’t matter, because that’s… that’s what I am.”

“No, that’s not what you are anymore.”

“It is! You bought me. I’m a slave, your slave.”

“Oh, Bofur…” Bilbo breathed.

The dwarf took one of Bilbo’s hands in both of his own and bowed his head. “I-I’m sorry, Bilbo, for this outburst. It won’t happen again. I… I didn’t understand your intentions, and was impatient to know. If you think I deserve punishment-“

“Stop.”

Bofur glanced up for a second, then lowered his head again. His brow furrowed when the hobbit slowly kneeled in front of him.

“Look at me?” When the dwarf’s eyes met his, Bilbo said, “What I want is for you to understand that I am not going to hurt you, in any way. I promise that. And I promise not to let anyone else hurt you. Please, understand that.”

Bofur stared down at Bilbo’s hand between his. “I…” He bit his lip. “I don’t know if I do.”

Bilbo gave a small encouraging smile. “Hopefully you will.”

“I don’t know if I’d bet on that.” Bofur cleared his throat. “If you’re not going to punish me, may I go to my room?”

Bilbo nodded, and rose to his feet with the dwarf. “I promise, Bofur.”

Bofur swallowed, and flashed a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. Then he let go of the hobbit’s hand and walked away.

Bilbo sank down in his armchair, burying his face in his hands, tears starting to dampen them.


	9. Chapter 9

Bilbo closed his eyes as he inhaled on his pipe, relishing in the late-morning sun on his face as he sat on his porch bench. Bofur hadn’t come out of his room for breakfast, but Bilbo tried not to worry too much about that. Last night had been difficult for him. For both of them, really. Bofur would need some space today.

Bilbo opened his eyes and blew out the smoke, trying to get it into the shape of a ring. What was he supposed to do about Bofur? Should he try to send a message to his family in Ered Luin? Though to do that most effectively, he would need Bofur to tell him the city or town they lived in, and that was something it seemed the dwarf wasn’t ready to do yet. The best he could hope to do right now would be to give Bofur a safe place to recover. No one would hurt him here.

Bilbo looked to the door at the little squeak of it opening further. He smiled at Bofur and invitingly patted the empty space on the bench. “Did you see the scones I left out for you?”

Bofur tucked a lock of hair behind his ear. “Aye, thank you.” He took the offered seat and closed his eyes.

“How are you?” Bilbo asked after a few quiet moments.

“I don’t know,” Bofur hesitantly replied.

“That’s alright, you don’t have to know right away.” Bilbo wiped the end of his pipe on his shirt and offered it to the dwarf.

Bofur took it, but only held it in his hand, staring at the lit contents within. He handed it back after a minute, and inquired, “Do you find me attractive?”

Bilbo was taken aback by the question. “Um, well…”

“Please be honest? I need to know.”

Bilbo’s eyes met Bofur’s, and saw that desperate need in them. “Yes… yes, I do.” How could he not, with the dark hair framing his handsome face, strong and lean body under the clothes, and pleasant voice, along with the charming personality he had seen glimpses of?

“Do you… do you like me?”

Bilbo nodded this time.

“And you haven’t…” the dwarf softly muttered. Without breaking eye contact, he turned his body to the hobbit’s and moved in closer, laying his hand on Bilbo’s thigh.

“Bofur?”

Bofur raised his other hand to Bilbo’s face, caressing it. “Surely, you’ve been tempted…”

“Bofur…” Bilbo didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to physically push him away.

Bofur leaned in close, the hand on Bilbo’s thigh going up to the side of his neck, also caressing the sensitive skin there.

Bilbo closed his eyes, and bit his lip to stop the little moan of pleasure. It had been so long since he’d been intimate like this with anyone, but what was Bofur doing? He nearly pushed the dwarf away at the lips that softly pressed against his own.

He didn’t understand why Bofur was doing this, but it felt so good. The hands on his face and neck were gentle but firm. Same with Bofur’s lips. He knew what he was doing, and it was starting to make Bilbo’s head feel light. Now he couldn’t push the dwarf away.

He did have enough control to not kiss Bofur back. He could not do that, no matter what the dwarf did, no matter how good it felt. He pressed his hands between his thighs to stop them from carding through Bofur’s hair or stroking his chest. But every passing second the urge to touch him back, to kiss him back got more difficult to suppress. He curled his hands into fists to control them better.

Then it suddenly stopped. Bofur pulled away, mouth and hands. Bilbo’s eyes finally opened to find the dwarf looking at him, head tilted to one side with a strange and unreadable expression on his face.

“You were serious. You meant it,” Bofur stated. “You like me. But you… you won’t touch me. Not even with me doing that.”

“Do you believe me now?”

Bofur nodded. “I could tempt you further, but I… I got the answer I needed.” He leaned back against the bench and stared out across the landscape. “Thank you.”

Bilbo brought his pipe up to his mouth, and absentmindedly started to puff on it, trying to forget the feel of Bofur’s lips and hands on him. He didn’t know what he would’ve done if Bofur had gone further, like kissing his neck and running his hands down his torso… He shook his head. He really couldn’t think about that, not now. “You’re welcome.”

********

“You don’t have to be so careful,” Bofur said one afternoon while they were tending to the garden.

“Careful with what?”

“You’re always checking to make sure my hand isn’t anywhere near yours before you move it when we’re cooking, doing dishes, or gardening. I won’t misinterpret an accidental touch. Especially not since you’ve made it clear that you won’t ask me for those services.”

“Ah, yes. Sorry, I just… didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

A small smile flickered over Bofur’s features. “I know. I appreciate that.” He looked back down to the weeds he was pulling out. He quietly murmured, “Though I don’t think I could be made uncomfortable at this point. Not after all the training.”

********

“Bofur,” Bilbo said one evening as they were sitting by the fire. The dwarf was reading one of his books.

“Aye?” Bofur looked up, with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I… I was thinking. Maybe… maybe we should try to contact your family in Ered Luin. Let them know that you’re alive, where you are?”

Bofur instantly dropped the book, and went to his knees in front of Bilbo. “Don’t do that, please!”

Bilbo flinched back at the panicked reaction from the dwarf. “I-I couldn’t, not without you telling me where they live.”

Bofur withdrew from Bilbo and sat in front of the fireplace, knees drawn up to his chest and his arms wrapped around them. “Sorry.”

Bilbo watched Bofur for a moment before he tentatively inquired, “Why don’t you want to send them a message?” Bofur still hadn’t said a word about his family.

“It’s nothing. It’s stupid.”

Bilbo sighed. “It’s not, Bofur. You don’t have to tell me, but-“

“I can’t. I can’t face them. I’m so… so very damaged. I can’t face them like this.” Bofur kept his eyes locked on the dancing flames.

“How about a message just saying you’re alive?”

Bofur shook his head. “They’ll come, even if I ask them not to. They’ll find a way to track down where the letter came from. I… I don’t want them to… to see me like this.” His voice cracked on the last word. He sniffled, “They wouldn’t recognize me, the person I am now.” He gave a side glance to the hobbit sitting in the armchair. “How is it you’re so patient with me, and you’ve never known me, known who I was before all this?”

“I meant what I said. I want to help you.”

“But why? You don’t need a damaged dwarf in your house.”

“When… when you were being lead into the auction, I saw you. You turned your head towards me, and caught my eye. I felt like… like you were asking for help. I couldn’t refuse. Listen, why not let your family come and help you? You don’t have to leave, but maybe they-“

“No. I can’t. Please… I just can’t.” After a moment of silence, Bofur bit his lip, then said, “It’s not that they would be ashamed of me when they find out what… what happened to me. No, it’s… it’s the shame I feel for what happened to me.”

Bilbo tentatively got down from his armchair to sit on the floor next to the dwarf, wordlessly prompting him to go on. Giving him the support he needed to be able to.

“I let it happen. I allowed all that pain… all that humiliation… everything happen to me. Why should they be burdened with all of that? I can’t do that to them.”

“It doesn’t sound like it’s your fault,” Bilbo quietly commented.

“It is! I-I should’ve been stronger, fought harder, fought longer… something, anything!”

“I don’t want you blaming yourself for this, Bofur. I’m sure you fought it as long as you could.”

“You weren’t there. How could you know that?”

“I see it in you. I saw it in you when I first saw you. You still have strength.”

Bofur shook his head. “I don’t think so.” They sat there quietly for a few minutes. Then tears began to run down Bofur’s face. “Maybe… maybe it would be better if they thought I was dead.”

“Don’t say that. How would that make anything better?”

“Wouldn’t it better than for them to know? To know that I couldn’t stop any of it? That I… that Yevin took everything from me?” Bofur started to openly cry. “He took everything from me. How can I… how can I go back home after this?” The flickering fire started to blur through the tears. “How can I go back home? I-I’m not who I was. I’m not… I’m not the Bofur they knew and loved. I’m not, and I never can be again. I can never be him again. Sure, I-I might get close, might be able to trick some people into never knowing this happened, but it did… It happened. Everything was-was taken from me, and I… I allowed that. And I-I can never get it all back. How am I supposed to live with that? That this happened to me? That I’m so… so damaged and lost and…” He lowered his head to his knees, his tears dampening the fabric of his trousers. “Everything… everything…”

Bilbo put his hand to his mouth as he watched the dwarf cry. Then he put a hand on Bofur’s shoulder and softly said his name.

That opened the floodgates. Bofur turned and threw his arms around the hobbit, burying his face in his neck as his crying and sobbing intensified. “I can’t… I can’t, Bilbo. How could I possibly… I’m so lost…”

Bilbo wrapped his arms around the dwarf and shifted into a more comfortable position. He started stroking the long and dark hair. “You’ll find yourself again,” he consoled. “I know you can. I know you will. I can see it in you, your strength. Those people, they didn’t take it all from you.” It was impossible to stop his own voice from cracking as tears trailed down his cheeks.

“They took everything.”

“No, no they didn’t. I can feel it in you, Bofur. You’re… you’re stronger than you think.” The arms around Bilbo tightened. “You’ll find yourself again. And you… you won’t have to do it alone. I-I’m here… and I’ll do anything I can for you. Whatever they took, you’ll… you’ll get it back.” The dwarf’s body trembled harder. “I promise you, Bofur. I’ll be here, for as long as you need me. Until… until you’re whole again, and you can go home. I’ll be here…”

Bilbo held Bofur as he cried. And when the dwarf’s tears slowed and dried, Bofur didn’t push away, didn’t get up, didn’t move. He simply stayed there, and Bilbo obliged, holding the occasionally shivering and sobbing dwarf.

“I’m here…”


	10. Chapter 10

Bofur approached Bilbo rather nervously one afternoon. “Would you mind if I… Am I allowed to woodcarve?”

“You don’t have to ask me to do anything, you know,” Bilbo gently reminded.

“Right, sorry. It’s just…” Bofur clasped his hands together. “I wasn’t allowed. I couldn’t do anything that I used to do before. I miss doing it terribly. Give my hands something productive to do.”

Bilbo smiled. This was most definitely a good sign. Yes, the dwarf had thought he needed to ask for approval, but at least he had the will to ask without being prompted. “Of course you can. I don’t have any tools for that, since I never tried. But we can go to the market to see if there’s anything there for you?”

“You sure? I mean, you don’t have to buy me anything.”

Bilbo nodded. “I want to. I told you I would help you the best I can, and if getting you some tools will help, I’ll gladly do it. Besides, it’ll do us both some good to go out anyway.” They had gone out for short walks in the evening, but Bilbo thought that Bofur could do with actually interacting with others now.

“You won’t be bothered if they all stare at me, and probably you?”

“Don’t worry about that. I told you they already think I’m odd.” He added in a lighthearted tone, “And really, the only stare you might have to worry about is that of Lobelia Sackville-Baggins. Dreadful woman.” His smile widened at Bofur’s chuckle.

“Would I wilt under her gaze?”

“I think you’re strong enough not to. Shall we go now?”

********

“I’ll probably be a little rusty,” Bofur commented as he sat at a table and took out his new carving tools and some spare wood pieces. “Don’t fret if I accidently cut myself.”

“As long as you don’t cut yourself too badly.”

“Then I’ll definitely try not to, for your sake.”

Bilbo went to the kitchen to get a start on dinner. He left the meat cooking and went back to find Bofur enthusiastically whittling away at a piece of wood, the shavings falling to the table. He already had a couple small cuts on his fingers, but it didn’t seem to deter him at all.

Bofur stopped and looked up to the hobbit. “Thank you.”

“You already thanked me, at the market.”

“Well, thank you again. And not just for this. For everything you’re trying to do for me.”

Bilbo simple put on a small smile and slightly bowed his head. Bofur smiled in response, and it wasn’t the unnerving kind that had thrown Bilbo off-guard the first time he had seen it. It wasn’t full and bright, not yet. But it was genuine. It was progress.

Bofur put down his tools and wood long enough to eat and help Bilbo with the dishes, then went right back to it. Bilbo watched him, and the dwarf’s enthusiasm was as though he was making up for the lost time. He chuckled to himself, hoping that Bofur would slow down before he ended up carving up every piece of firewood in the house. Though he wouldn’t have minded if Bofur did do that. It felt so satisfying to see him enjoying himself in something he had used to do before being enslaved. Though he had needed to take a break to bandage a finger.

Eventually, Bilbo bid the still-carving dwarf goodnight. He fell asleep quickly, but woke up around midnight for a drink of water.

Bilbo stopped in his tracks when he saw Bofur sitting in an armchair by the fire, not moving. Very slowly and quietly, he went around to see the dwarf from the front, and brought his hands up to his mouth at the sight. Bofur was asleep, his tools and a barely-started carving in his lap. Wood shavings and a few completed carvings were on the floor by his feet.

Bilbo hadn’t seen Bofur asleep since they came home, not wanting to ever violate the sense of safety of the dwarf’s bedroom to do so. He couldn’t help but wonder if the subtle serene expression was normal for him, or if it was rare for him. Either way, it nearly melted Bilbo’s heart. He didn’t want to wake him to prompt him to go to bed, so he settled for finding a quilt and gingerly draping it over him.

“Sleep peacefully, Bofur,” Bilbo whispered before getting his drink of water and heading back to bed.

********

Bofur looked unwell a few days after getting the carving tools, like he had gotten no sleep for the past couple nights. Bilbo brought it up after they had done some gardening.

“It’s nothing,” Bofur dismissed. Then he let out a long breath and buried his face in his hands on the table.

Bilbo pulled up a chair next to him, supporting him, even if he didn’t want to talk about it. He nearly put a hand on the dwarf’s shoulder at the sound of a quiet sob.

“I… I relive it sometimes, when I sleep, in nightmares,” Bofur finally said. “The beginning of it, when it all still hurt so much.” He looked up, and stared at the lit candle on the table. “By Mahal, it hurt so much…”

“Have the nightmares gotten worse? I haven’t heard anything from your room.”

Bofur’s gaze remained fixed on the candle’s flame. “You learn to suffer silently through the pain. Though some people loved it when you cried for them. So I would, even though it didn’t hurt as much by that point. Strangely enough… when you accept that there’s… there’s no rescue coming for you, no hope of escape… it doesn’t hurt as much.” He looked to Bilbo. “Was that… was that wrong of me? To give up like that?”

Bilbo cleared his throat. “I can’t really say. But I don’t think it was. It sounds like you had reached your point, and that’s… that’s fine. But you survived. However you did it, you survived. And you’re safe now, and-“

“Am I?”

“No one will hurt you here, Bofur. You know that.”

“That’s what the new nightmares are about. Not you or any other hobbits hurting me. No, I… I couldn’t imagine that now. I’m afraid, Bilbo. I’m afraid that Yevin will… he’ll somehow find out that you’re not... using me. That you’re helping me. And then he’ll come and take me away, back to that place, back to-”

Bilbo’s hand fell on Bofur’s shoulder at the muffled sob. “He won’t do that. He won’t find out, and he won’t take you away back to that horrible place.”

“If he tried… if he came, I-I don’t know if you could protect me.” Bofur looked up at Bilbo, eyes wide and wet. “And I wouldn’t ask it of you. He might try to take you as well. And I… I couldn’t risk you-risk all that happening to you too. I-I couldn’t have him destroy you as well.”

“He won’t, Bofur. It was only a nightmare. He can’t do anything to hurt you.”

“You really believe that? That he can’t do anything to me now, and to you?”

“I do. He won’t ever find out I’m helping you, and he won’t ever come take you back. Please, believe me?”

“I don’t know if I can. I’m so… I’m afraid. Afraid of Yevin, afraid of being hurt again, afraid of… of never being able to be who I was before he destroyed me.”

Bilbo took a hitched breath. “I… I don’t know if I can lessen those fears. But I’ll be here as long as you need me. Anything I can do, you tell me, and I’ll try my best.”

Bofur’s hand came up to pat Bilbo’s on his shoulder. “I know, and I am so thankful for that.”

********

After the initial flurry from being allowed to woodcarve again, Bofur did do it more in moderation. Not that Bilbo would’ve minded finding a place for however many little carvings and statues Bofur would do. After taking a little time to remember all his techniques, the dwarf really was very talented.

“You said you were a toymaker?”

“Aye, I was. Along with my cous… I was, yes.”

Bilbo let out a soft sigh when Bofur once again glossed over any mention of his family. Why did he guard the thought of them so much? But he didn’t ask. He didn’t want to risk upsetting Bofur right now. Not yet.

Bofur put down his carving tools and approached Bilbo. “May I ask a favor of you?”

Bilbo put down his tea and book. “What is it?”

“I’ve… I’ve been feeling more like myself since I’ve been carving again. This… this might sound stupid or silly, but I… I didn’t wear my hair like this, loose and down. I wasn’t allowed to braid it in my usual style.”

“You don’t need my permission to do your hair however you like.”

“Do you know how to braid hair?” Bofur blurted out.

“You want me to help you?”

“Just one in the back. If you don’t mind, of course.”

Bilbo pursed his lips in thought for a short moment. “I haven’t braided hair for a while. I used to help my mother do hers occasionally when I was small, so I don’t know if I’ll be any good.”

“It’s not intricate or anything like that, just one large braid in the back.”

“I suppose I could give it a try. Though if it ends up less than what you want, you can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I’ll take my chances,” Bofur replied with a small grin.

“Then go get your brush and I’ll do my best.”

Bofur left, and quickly came back with his hairbrush. He eagerly handed it to Bilbo and sat down on the floor at the Hobbit’s feet, scooting back until he was between Bilbo’s legs. He separated the hair at the sides of his head that he would braid later.

Bilbo started brushing the dwarf’s hair, and smiled at the tune Bofur started humming. It was something a bit upbeat, but not too much so where Bilbo’s body might start moving in what could be called a rhythm.

It took Bilbo a few tries to figure out how to braid hair again, but Bofur didn’t mind the extra time taken. “Alright, I think I’ve got it now.” He took his hands away from the dwarf’s head.

Bofur felt the back of his head to inspect the thick braid. “Aye, that feels pretty good.” He turned with a small smile. “Thank you. I can do the rest myself. Shouldn’t take long.” He got up and left the room with his brush.

Bilbo replaced his now-cold tea, and went back to his book. Bofur came back a few minutes later, a larger smile than Bilbo had seen before lighting up his face. In addition to the braid in the back that Bilbo had done, two thick braids came from the sides of his head, the thickness of the hair making them stick up at the ends. While Bilbo had found the loose unbraided style he was used to Bofur wearing quite fetching on the dwarf, this was handsome too, once he got over how different it was.

“What do you think?” Bofur asked.

“It’s definitely different, but in a good way, I suppose,” Bilbo complimented. “Though it doesn’t really matter what I think about how you do your hair. What do you think about it?”

“Makes me feel more myself. Seems a silly and trivial thing, but it’s… I suppose it’s part of my identity.”

Bilbo put down his tea. “I told you earlier, it’s not silly. And I don’t mind helping you braid it.” He let out an undignified sort of squeak as Bofur suddenly yanked him up from the chair and into a firm hug. Bilbo closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around him in return at the whispered expression of gratitude in his ear.


	11. Chapter 11

“Do you think the other hobbits would mind if I set up a stall in the market?” Bofur asked at breakfast. “For my carvings and toys.”

Bilbo cleared his throat of the fruit juice that he nearly choked on at the sudden question. “What brought this on?”

“Just a thought. I mean, I need to do something with them, and I can’t keep them all. I thought they might like them.”

“Well, I don’t think they’d mind, and they’ve seen you around enough by now to not question you being here.”

“There’s also the matter of you being so kind to me and paying for the food I eat and supplies I use.”

“You don’t have to pay me back. I never expected you to.”

“I know you didn’t, but it’s the least I can do. I was a working dwarf, and since you don’t have any mines around here, toy-making can be my trade as long as I’m here.”

“If that’s what you want to do, then I’ll talk to the mayor and see if I can get you approved. He’ll probably want to see some examples of your work.”

Bofur chuckled, “I might need your help in picking out my best ones then.”

Bilbo smiled back. “I’m not at all an expert, but I’ll do my best.”

********

Bofur’s toy and carvings stall in the market did pretty successfully, after the initial hesitation from the hobbits in buying things from a dwarf. Bilbo did wish that the others wouldn’t refer to Bofur as “Bilbo’s dwarf” out of Bofur’s earshot. Even though they couldn’t have possibly known the circumstances of Bofur coming to live with him, he still couldn’t help but to think of that connotation. But they overall took to him. The children especially did, asking him all sorts of questions about dwarves and requesting exciting stories. Bilbo did notice that he was evasive with anything too specific to himself, and would instead successfully engage their interest in other ways.

A couple weeks after setting up the stall, Bilbo found Bofur outside on the front porch late in the evening, smoking a pipe. “I was getting worried. You’ve been out here awhile.”

“Sorry if I’ve made you worry. I was just… thinking.”

“If I’ve interrupted you-“

“I don’t mind if you stay and sit with me, if you want.”

Bilbo tied the front of his robe and joined the dwarf on the bench. He glanced down at the object in Bofur’s lap, and couldn’t help but to stare at it. It was the hat, the one he hadn’t seen since Bofur had gotten here. True to Yevin’s word, he never did wear it, and Bilbo assumed he did actually sleep with it.

“See something you like?” Bofur joked.

“Your hat. I mean…”

Bofur softly smiled, then went back to looking out at the landscape. They fell into a companionable quiet for a few minutes before the dwarf asked, “Do you want to know what I was thinking about?”

“Only if you want to tell me.”

Bofur let out a short soft laugh. “It’s always like that with you. Never an order, at best a gentle request. I can’t explain how good that’s been for me.” He took a deep puff from his pipe and blew out the smoke. His face fell into a contemplative and sad expression. “I was thinking about my family.”

“That’s a good thing, right?”

“I mean, I’ve thought about them before, of course. But, I think I want to talk about them. I… I haven’t because I… I wanted to keep them safe. Safe from Yevin, safe from anyone who would want to do them harm because of what’s happened to me. I know you wouldn’t, but…”

“You couldn’t be sure of that when we met. I’m not offended that you haven’t talked about them with me.”

“Well, I still suppose it’s time I have. As long as you don’t try to send a message to them?”

“I can’t without you telling me exactly where they live. But even if you did, I wouldn’t.”

“Thank you. It’s just that I… I still can’t bear the thought of facing them. Not yet, anyway.” Bofur set his pipe down on the bench, and took his hat in both hands. He took a deep breath. “My brother, Bombur, he’s…he’s the quiet and nice type. He’s not a cook by trade, but I think he missed that calling and became an architect. He enjoys it well enough, but you’d be hard-pressed to find any better home-cooking than his. He’s got a large family. Wife and thirteen… no, fourteen little ones.”

“Fourteen? Sounds rather… productive.”

“Aye, that those two are.” Bofur let out a laugh. “I don’t live with them. They’ve got enough underfoot without needing me to worry about.”

“You live alone, then?”

Bofur shook his head. “With my cousin, Bifur. When I’m not mining, I’m carving and making toys and helping him with his toyshop.”

“Ah, so you’ve got experience with that. Probably why you’re doing well here,” Bilbo commented with a smile.

“I’m not as good as him, but I do my best.”

“Then he must be quite exceptional.”

“Aye, even after… He got injured a while back. Orc attack in the village he used to live in. Took a nasty blow to the head, and still has the damn axehead in his forehead.”

“He survived that?” Bilbo couldn’t help but ask in amazement.

“It changed him, he can’t speak Common anymore, and he sometimes has little… fits, but yes, he survived it. The two of us were always close, so it made sense that I would mostly be the one to help him recover. Besides, Bombur already had more than a few children at that point, and he needed to focus on being there for them.” The dwarf cleared his throat. “I’d rather not go into any more detail about his injury and condition.”

“Of course, I won’t pry.”

“I’ve… I’ve also got a few friends. My closest one, he was there the night Yevin came. Bifur, Nori, and I were…” Bofur swallowed as his hands tightened on his hat. “We were out on a hunting trip. Yevin and his team came, knocked out Bifur and Nori, and took me away.” He closed his eyes and cleared his throat to stop any potential tears from coming. “Mahal, I miss them all so much.”

“I’m sure they feel the same,” Bilbo quietly remarked.

“Makes me wonder how they took my capture. I know they would’ve looked for me, but eventually they would’ve had to give up. Try to… to move on without me.”

“You think they have?”

“I don’t know. I would hope so, but… I can’t be sure.” Bofur let his head drop to the hobbit’s shoulder. “I don’t really know what to do. I can’t go back, not yet. Not when I still feel damaged and not fully who I was. I mean… I know I’ll never be exactly who I was. What’s been done to me will always… be a part of me. But…”

“I can understand that.” Bilbo patted Bofur’s hand. “Whenever you’re ready and you’ve decided what to do, I’ll be here to help you however I can.”

“One day you’ll get tired of putting up with me.”

“I don’t think so. It would take much more for me to want you gone.”

Bofur lifted his head to look to the hobbit. “You mean that? Not that I’m going to take it as a challenge or anything, but you mean that?”

Bilbo nodded. “I told you, you’re welcome to stay as long as you need.”

Bofur let out a pleased sort of sound, and laid his head back on Bilbo’s shoulder.

“I want you to get well, Bofur. Recover as much as you can, so that you can return to the family you love so much. So that they can have you back, and you can all heal from this.”

“Aye… maybe one day.”

********

Bilbo looked up from his plants that he was watering when Bofur stepped outside to join him, and did a double-take. “You… you’re wearing your hat.”

“Aye, that I am. I still feel… diminished, but somehow putting this on again is helping.”

“That’s… that’s good. Though, it’s not too warm?”

“Funnily enough, I never felt too warm with this on, no matter the weather.”

Bilbo looked the dwarf over, and chuckled at the way the wonky flaps of the hat complimented the two braids from the sides of his head, and the long mustache. “It suits you.”

Bofur grinned, then asked, “Need any help out here?”

“Ah… no, just about done, actually.”

“Then I’ll go ahead and make lunch. Want anything in particular?”

“As long as it’s not burnt, I’m fine with it.”

“In that case, I can’t make any promises,” Bofur chuckled.

That night, while sitting together by the fire, Bilbo reading and Bofur carving, the dwarf let out a loud sigh and put his tools down on the small table beside him. He took off his hat and held it to his chest.

“Bofur?” Bilbo asked, concerned when the Bofur had stared into the fire for a full minute.

Bofur’s gaze didn’t move away from the dancing and crackling flames. “I’ve finally figured out why he let me keep this.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he did let me keep my earring, but I was allowed to wear that since it added to the image he wanted of me. But this…”

Bilbo didn’t push for Bofur to continue, knowing he would do so without prompt when he felt he could.

Bofur closed his eyes for a few seconds, then opened them before speaking. “I thought it so strange when he stripped everything from me, except my name. My freedom, my clothes, my chosen style of hair. Everything except this. He allowed me to keep it, as long as I never wore it.” He looked to the hobbit’s concerned face. “You see, it’s a reminder of everything that was taken from me.” His eyes went back to the fire. “But then, why would he let me have something that reminded me of home, something that would give me hope that I would make it there again?”

Bofur brought the hat up to his mouth, leaving it there for a moment before moving it back down and continuing. “The hope, when it finally leaves, slowly crushes you, because… because you still have something with you, something you sleep with every night that reminds you of everything you’ve lost. But you can’t bring yourself to get rid of it. Despite how despairing it is, you still want… no, need that reminder of home, of who you were. It’s like a trap, but one you can’t help but to fall into. I suppose, in a way, you fall into it willingly.”

Bilbo’s nose twitched nervously before he gently asked, “And now? Does it give you hope again?”

“Hope that I’ll get home again? That I’ll see those I love again? Perhaps.” Bofur’s brow furrowed. “But I think it’s more than that now. It’s… more like a certainty that all that will happen. A wavering sort of certainty, but one you believe in anyway.” He shook his head with a self-deprecating little laugh. “It’s silly and strange, how a simple hat could ever come to mean so much.”

“I don’t think so. It makes perfect sense to me.”

“Good to know I made some kind of sense.” With a smooth motion, Bofur placed the hat back on his head. “Wearing it again… it’s almost foreign. But it is comforting, it does help me believe and hope… and know.”

“That’s good. You deserve all that and more.”

Bofur nodded, and let out a long breath through his nose. “I think that’s enough deep thinking for one night. I’m heading to bed now.”

Bilbo wished the dwarf goodnight and watched as he cleaned up his carving supplies and walked away. He couldn’t help the little smile on his face. Piece by piece, Bofur was recovering. Some days were harder than others, but he was recovering. Bilbo had no doubt he would make it to the point of being with his family again.


	12. Chapter 12

With such a nice day turning into a nice evening, Bilbo and Bofur opted to taking dinner outside to a river dock.

Since the dwarf had started wearing his hat again, Bilbo noticed some changes in him. Positive ones. Though Bofur had slowly started having fewer fire-induced trances, there was now a noticeable drop in length of them. He smiled more, and every time he did, it warmed Bilbo’s heart.

But there were subtle changes in Bofur’s behavior that couldn’t be accounted for, and seemed contrary. He was… well, Bilbo couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was a strange sort of shyness that wasn’t there before. While Bilbo couldn’t be sure, he doubted that particular trait had been in Bofur before he had been enslaved. It didn’t really fit with his personality.

Bofur finished up his meal and placed the empty plate into the basket. He laid back on the wooden dock with his hands under his head, and stared up at colours of the sunset sky. After a few moments, he said, “Bilbo, do you mind if I tell you something?”

Bilbo swallowed the piece of cheese in his mouth. “Of course. Anything at all, you know that.”

Bofur turned his head to the hobbit. “It’s… it’s something personal that would affect you too.”

Bilbo put his now-empty plate in the basket. He prepared himself for Bofur to say that he had healed enough and it was now time for him to leave and go back home. He would miss him, but that day had to eventually come, right?

Bofur sat up and crossed his legs. He clasped his hands together in his lap and nervously licked his lips. “I…” He closed his eyes for a few seconds. “I have feelings for you.”

Bilbo was stunned into silence. If he had still been eating dinner, he certainly would’ve choked on something. Though he supposed that this would explain the dwarf’s behavior of late. “You do?” he finally managed to squeak out.

“Aye. I like you a lot, in more than the friendly way.” Bofur bit his lip before adding, “If you don’t like that, then I’ll never mention it again and we can completely forget I ever said it.”

Completely forget it? How could Bilbo do that? Not that he wanted to. On the contrary, he had found himself staring after Bofur longer than necessary, and a little funny pleasant feeling would happen within him whenever Bofur laid his head on his shoulder or did anything like that. He liked Bofur’s personality, his charm, his wit… and yes, he still found the dwarf very physically attractive. But as much as he wanted to say yes to whatever Bofur was offering, he couldn’t yet.

Bilbo thought through his response, and his nose twitched before he said, “Before I say anything else, I must ask you something. I hope this doesn’t offend you. Are you… this isn’t because I helped you, is it?”

Bofur shook his head. “No, it’s not that. And I get why you asked. We met in bad circumstances, so I suppose you should ask that. But, it’s not. I… what I feel… it’s not that.” He scooted closer to the hobbit. “I know I would’ve fallen for you if we had met before this, if we had met in better circumstances.”

Bilbo slowly nodded. “This is… this is something you want?”

“Only if you do as well, of course. But yes, I want this.”

“Then… it wouldn’t be out of order to say I have feelings for you. The more than friendly kind, as you put it.”

“You do?”

Bilbo nodded. “And if you’re asking for a relationship, I’ll say yes.”

Bofur smiled, then glanced out to the water as his face fell. “If… if you’ll be wanting sex, I… I don’t think I can do that. Not for awhile anyway.”

Bilbo touched Bofur’s cheek with his fingers and gently pulled him back to face him. “That’s perfectly alright. Besides, I’ve been alone long enough to know how to take care of myself when the need arises.”

Bofur chuckled and the smile returned. He placed his hand over Bilbo’s on his face, and simply held it there for a moment before taking it and pressing the fingers to his lips.

Bilbo pushed down his desire to lunge forward and kiss the dwarf. There was still one more thing he had to make certain of. “I have one condition.”

“I’m listening.”

“I don’t want you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable in order to make me happy. Anything at all. Don’t hurt yourself for me. And if I do anything, tell me.”

“Aye…” Bofur slowly leaned in to press his forehead to the hobbit’s. “I can do that.”

Bilbo closed eyes at the pleasant sensation of Bofur’s gentle breath on his face. He let out a soft sigh as Bofur tenderly nuzzled his nose against his cheek.

“May I kiss you?” Bofur asked softly.

“I would like that very much.” Bilbo shivered as the dwarf slowly moved in and his lips lightly pressed against his own. After a moment, Bofur pulled back slightly. One of Bilbo’s hands went to grasp at the front of Bofur’s shirt, while the other went to the side of Bofur’s head, sliding up partway under the hat.

Bilbo let Bofur once again initiate the next kiss, this one more heavy than the first. It felt so relieving and wonderful to be able to respond in kind. Bofur kept his hands still, so Bilbo did the same, resisting the urge to let them explore.

On the fourth kiss, Bofur’s hands moved to caress Bilbo’s neck and ruffle through his hair, and Bilbo couldn’t hold back the breathy little moan. His hand fisted in Bofur’s shirt spread out on his chest. The fingers of his other hand traced along the shell of the dwarf’s ear.

They finally pulled away for more than a second to catch their breath, and gazed into each other’s eyes. If there had been any doubt that Bofur did actually want this, the expression in those clear green eyes washed it away. This was no trick, no act, no lie. This was sincere. And Bilbo’s feelings were just as genuine.

Bilbo pulled Bofur into an embrace, his hands slowly rubbing the other’s back. Bofur slid down until the side of his face was pressed against the hobbit’s chest, and he looked out at the darkening water and trees beyond. “Thank you.”

Bilbo’s brow furrowed. “For what?”

“I… I never thought I would even ever have these feelings again. That’s sad, isn’t it? To think you’ve lost the ability to feel this…Then to have it accepted… Thank you, for being you.”

“That’s not something I hear often, so… you’re welcome?”

“This place, you… what you’ve given back to me is… there’s no real way to thank you for it.”

“There’s no need for you to.”

“I know.” Bofur took Bilbo’s hand and kissed the back of it. “You give so freely. That’s part of what’s so wonderful about you.” He added with a little laugh, “Your cooking is pretty good, too.”

“Well that’s a relief. I’d hate to have been feeding you sub-par meals.”

“Though you can’t beat Bombur’s cooking.”

“I wouldn’t dare to think I measure up against him.”

“Maybe someday you’ll get to sample it yourself.”

Bilbo’s arm around Bofur’s back tightened. “That would be nice.”

Bofur wrapped his arms around Bilbo and settled more comfortably against him. “Aye, it would be nice.”

They stayed on the dock until well after the sun had set, simply enjoying the soft touches and occasional lazy kisses.

********

“I love you,” Bofur whispered one windy evening as they sat together on the floor by the fire.

Bilbo’s hand carding through Bofur’s unbraided hair froze.

“I love you,” Bofur repeated, louder and more confident.

Bilbo tapped the dwarf’s chest to get him to look up at him. He smiled and kissed Bofur’s fore head. “And I love you.” He let out a yelp as Bofur turned over and pushed him over until he was lying on his back. The dwarf hovered over him, that charming smile lighting up his face. The loose dark hair tickled Bilbo’s cheeks.

“I’ve fallen for such a funny little thing.”

“I could say the same about you. Except… you’re bigger.”

The two gazed into the other’s face, the firelight flickering across them. Bilbo broke first, unable to contain the building laughter. Bofur quickly joined in, his laugh a sound that Bilbo relished. A sound he hoped Bofur would never lose the ability to make again.


	13. Chapter 13

Bilbo found himself pulled into a deeper kiss than he had expected when he went in for a simple goodnight kiss in the hallway between the two bedrooms. As with every one of the more passionate kisses from Bofur so far, he nearly melted into it. The dwarf was really good at it, and it left Bilbo breathless each time.

In the fevered haze, Bilbo didn’t realize they were gravitating towards a certain room, until he nearly stepped over the threshold. His hand shot out to grab the doorframe to stop himself. “Wait, stop.”

“Sorry,” Bofur apologized, slightly pulling back. “Too much? It was only supposed to be a goodnight kiss.”

“No, it’s… You’re in your room.”

Bofur furrowed his brow and glanced around, seeing that he was just inside his bedroom. “Yes?”

“I think you were pulling me in.”

Bofur’s confusion deepened. “I don’t understand your point.”

Bilbo swallowed and laid a hand on the dwarf’s forearm. “I can’t cross this line”

“This is your house, you can go into whatever room you wish.”

“Yes, but this is your room, your space. I can’t, and won’t, invade it.”

“Invade? I would never think of you as invading.”

“Perhaps not, but this needs to stay your space, your place of safety, where you can go without fear of… of being hurt.”

Bofur took the hobbit’s hands. “But I feel safe with you. I know you won’t hurt me. I trust you.”

“I know you do, but this room needs to stay yours. Trust me on this?”

Bofur glanced down at their hands, then back to Bilbo’s face. “Always thinking of me, aren’t you. No matter what you might want.”

A small assuring smile was Bilbo’s reply.

“Aye, I’ll trust you on this.” Bofur leaned in for a soft and chaste kiss. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” Bilbo brought their foreheads together for a moment before he left to go to his own room.

Once in his bedroom, Bilbo slumped down on the bed, wondering how he had not only managed to stop himself from going into Bofur’s room, but also managed to be coherent in his explanation. The dwarf was very good at kissing, and once he started to use his hands to pet and stroke, Bilbo would be pretty much gone.

As he changed into his nightclothes, he wondered what Bofur had wanted at that moment. It was obvious that Bofur loved and trusted him, but Bilbo had to make sure the other didn’t push himself too far. Which was a task that was growing difficult, with his own desires pleading to be fulfilled. He had to make sure his love for Bofur overruled those more physical desires. It was frustrating at times, but he would not do anything to hurt Bofur, to betray his trust.

If only he had met Bofur before his enslavement, or in a world where it had never happened.

********

“Bilbo…” Bofur said breathily into the hobbit’s neck.

Bilbo’s eyes fluttered closed, and he slightly shifted on Bofur’s lap in one of the armchairs, legs straddling the other’s thighs, at the slight tickle of the facial hair against his sensitive skin. He didn’t realize a couple of his shirt buttons had been undone until Bofur’s mouth moved down to kiss the revealed skin. He slightly tightened his hand at the back of Bofur’s head.

After a few seconds, Bofur pulled back and stared up into Bilbo’s eyes. His fingers played with the edge of the collar of Bilbo’s shirt. “May I? I… I want to see you.” He nervously added, “Only the shirt.”

Bilbo drew Bofur in for a soft and comforting sort of kiss, and nodded. The request reminded him that he hadn’t seen the dwarf in any state of undress since he had rescued him. He wouldn’t ask Bofur to unclothe in return, no matter how much he wanted to see that muscled chest, no matter how much he wanted to run his hand down the bare skin.

Bofur captured Bilbo’s lips again, his hands slowly undoing the hobbit’s shirt, fingers lingering over each new patch of exposed soft skin. Bilbo didn’t want to move, and simply let the dwarf do as he wished, his most prominent reaction was his hands tightening in the back of Bofur’s shirt.

Once the shirt was unbuttoned, Bofur pulled back, and spread one hand over Bilbo’s chest and slowly moved it down. Bilbo couldn’t help the little drawn-out moan. That large and firm hand on his bare skin… It had been so long since he had been intimate like this. Too long, he thought.

Bofur pushed the shirt off Bilbo’s shoulders and down his arms, until it fell off, draping from Bofur’s knee to the floor. Bilbo slightly shivered, and suddenly worried if Bofur would find his body attractive. He knew he was rather handsome for a hobbit, but would a dwarf think that?

Bofur’s hands settled on Bilbo’s waist. He seemed to sense Bilbo’s insecurity and remarked, “Funny little thing, with no facial or body hair, except for your feet, of course.” It got the desired result of making the hobbit giggle. “Seriously, though, I like what I see.”

“You do?”

“Why shouldn’t I?” One of the dwarf’s hands went up Bilbo’s back. “I love you.” That hand came back around, and both went up to the hobbit’s neck, caressing for a few seconds before slowly moving back down past his collarbone.

Bilbo bit his lip as those hands, so very talented, ghosted over his nipples, sending a tease of pleasure through him. “You’re the… the hands-on type, I see.”

“Always have been.” Bofur replied with a sincere grin.

“If that’s the case, I don’t know how long I could last with you. What you’re-“ Bilbo shuddered as the dwarf’s fingers held him a little more firmly. Such strong, talented hands. “Or perhaps I’ve just been alone too long.”

“That’s a possibility,” Bofur replied, nuzzling his nose to the other’s cheek. “Mahal, you’re beautiful. So very lovely. Everything about you.”

Bilbo had to struggle to stay still as Bofur’s hands and mouth explored his back and torso, though there was no stopping the pleasured sounds spilling from his mouth. It all felt so good, and the dwarf was thorough.

Then Bofur stopped, pulling away and settling his hands on Bilbo’s waist. For a second, he looked confused, but quickly recovered with a smile. “Don’t want you to get too hot and bothered.”

“Too late for that, though at least you’re considerate,” Bilbo replied with a laugh.

“I do try to be.” Bofur raised his hands and started to unlace the top of his shirt. “Do you want me to…?”

“Only if you want to. There’s no pressure to return the favor.”

“Right, then. I want to.” Bofur pulled his shirt off over his head, and let it drape over the arm of the chair.

Bilbo leaned back a little to take it in. The thick, leanly-muscled chest and abdomen with a trail of hair down the middle, all the way down to disappear into the waistband of his trousers, a couple of slightly raised small scars on his side… Bilbo’s eyes went back to Bofur’s face, a little charming smile meeting him.

“Nothing you haven’t already seen,” the dwarf remarked.

“That doesn’t count.”

Bofur chuckled and took Bilbo’s hands, bringing them to either side of his neck. “You can touch. I can see you’re dying to.”

Bilbo bent his head down to capture Bofur’s lips in a slow kiss, as his hands started caressing his neck, nothing he hadn’t done yet. Bofur encouraged him to go further, gently grabbing one of Bilbo’s forearms to move the hand down to his collarbone. Bilbo took the cue, and began to let his hands explore.

Bilbo’s mouth moved down to kiss and nuzzle Bofur’s neck, as his hands went down to, spreading out across the broad chest, fingers lightly curling into the hair. He felt Bofur’s body tense for a second before relaxing.

His mouth went down further, to the hollow of Bofur’s throat. Instead of an expected moan, a low growling sort of sound rumbled in the dwarf’s chest. Bilbo pulled back in surprise. “What was that?”

“It means you definitely know what you’re doing.”

“Well, that’s a good sign. Relieves any insecurities I might have.”

Bofur kissed the hobbit’s nose. “Want to find other ways to have me make that sound?”

“Now that is tempting,” Bilbo answered with a laugh, putting his hands back onto the bare chest.

********

Bofur came back from his stall at the market with a new barrel of ale. Bilbo followed him inside with a few groceries in hand.

“Wonder what your fellow hobbits would say if we showed our passion in public.”

Bilbo chuckled. “They already talk about me, so another subject of gossip wouldn’t be too bad.”

Bofur replaced the empty barrel with the new one. “Speaking of showing passion…”

Bilbo never minded when the other would pull him into a kiss, and this was no exception. They ended up on the armchair, as they usually did, discarding their vests and light jackets.

Everything went as it usually did, until Bofur suddenly severely tensed and told Bilbo to stop. Bilbo immediately did so and pulled back. He had to stop himself from reaching up to touch the dwarf’s face at the fear and confusion clearly showing on it.

“Bofur? Did I do something to hurt you? Please, tell me what’s wrong.”

Bofur shook his head. “Not you.” He opened his mouth a few times to explain, but couldn’t say anything. Instead, he took Bilbo’s hand and moved it to his crotch.

Bilbo’s eyes widened at the motion, because neither of their hands had ventured that far down their bodies. Then he felt what Bofur meant for him to, a growing hardness in the dwarf’s trousers. He looked on with concern as Bofur’s eyes closed and he started shaking.

A short moment later, Bofur lifted the hobbit off his lap and got up from the chair. “I’m sorry. I-I need…” With a noise of frustration, he left the parlour room.

Despite his want to know what was going on, Bilbo knew not to follow, knowing Bofur would need some time alone to work through whatever he was feeling. He went to the kitchen to put a kettle of water on for tea, enough for him and Bofur, whenever the dwarf came back.

He couldn’t help but to think he had done something wrong, something that had caused Bofur to remember some of the horrors he had gone through, despite the other’s assertion that it wasn’t his fault. This was the first time Bofur’s body had responded to their kissing and touching, and he had reacted with fear and confusion? What had been done to him to make him fear that?

Bilbo looked up from his half-finished tea when Bofur came back from his bedroom. He set his cup aside to make one for him, and Bofur took it, almost absentminded as he drank from it, his gaze on the lit fireplace, in a trance.

“Sorry about that,” Bofur eventually said.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Bilbo asked, his tone cautious.

The dwarf nodded, and sighed. “When… when I was in that place, when Yevin… took me, I… my body didn’t respond. He didn’t try to force it. I thought… I thought that as long as my body didn’t, I could resist, they couldn’t use that against me, couldn’t break me down enough to be what they wanted.” He took another sip of the tea, swallowing heavily. “Then one day, when it didn’t hurt so much anymore, my body responded, I started to stiffen.”

Biblo took Bofur’s free hand and gently squeezed.

“Of course, Yevin and the others saw this, and took it to mean that I wanted this. That deep down, I wanted to be their whore, their… plaything. They taunted me, and even brought me to finish. I hadn’t cried during the training sessions for a while by that point, but I cried then, as they stroked me, forced me to finish. My own body had betrayed me. Any control I had left in this nightmare was gone. I… I knew I didn’t want it, but any resolve I had in that feeling was gone. It didn’t… it didn’t feel good, but what if it meant that I did want this?”

“That wasn’t your fault,” Bilbo assured.

“I know, but… the shame, in addition to all the other abuse they’d inflicted on me… I had nothing left to resist it. And that time wasn’t the last time it happened. Not every time, not even half the time, but… enough times.” Bofur broke his gaze from the red of the fire, finding solace in the blue of Bilbo’s eyes. “I’m sorry for leaving suddenly.”

“Don’t be. I understand.”

“And you did nothing wrong. I was just… overwhelmed. It was strange, having this reaction for something I wanted, someone I want and love. There was some fear and shame still lingering when it happened.”

“Do you think this was a good thing?”

“Aye, it must be a sign of progress. My body can still respond to something I want. This wasn’t taken from me. I thought it might’ve been.”

Bilbo stood and hugged Bofur from behind. The dwarf put his empty cup down and leaned back into it. They simply stayed like that for a while, Bilbo letting Bofur take all the quiet comfort he could give.


	14. Chapter 14

“Bilbo?” Bofur breathed when they separated from their goodnight kiss in the hallway between their bedrooms. He took hold of the hobbit’s forearms.

“Yes?” Bilbo tilted his head slightly. There was a hint of nervousness in the dwarf’s voice. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, yes… it’s um… I want to sleep with you,” Bofur blurted out.

“You what?” Bilbo responded instantly, wanting to make sure he heard it right.

“Sleep with you. Not the… I mean sleep in the same bed,” Bofur quickly clarified.

“Oh, right,” Bilbo let out a little nervous chuckle. He wanted to, he wanted to spend the night with Bofur’s warm weight next to him. But who’s room? It couldn’t be Bofur’s, he was still sticking to the rule of not intruding on that space. But he was hesitant for it to be his own room and bed. He didn’t want Bofur to feel any pressure to do anything he didn’t want to.

“Bilbo?” Bofur prompted. “Is this alright for us? You don’t mind?”

“No, I don’t mind,” Bilbo replied. “I want to.”

“You’re thinking the best way to do this without making me uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, I just don’t want-“

“Your bed is fine,” Bofur decided.

“You… you’re sure?”

Bofur moved in close. “Yes. I want to. I’ll be fine, I know it.”

“If… if you’re certain, then it’s fine by me.” Bilbo took the other’s hand and gently pulled him into his bedroom. He watched the dwarf’s face and motions for any sign of discomfort. He knew Bofur would tell him, but he didn’t want to take any chances.

Bilbo snuffed out the candlelamp on the bedside table and sat on the edge of the bed. Bofur smiled and joined him, laying his head on the smaller shoulder. They gradually moved and settled until they were laying together, heads on pillows and blanket over them. They ended up with Bofur behind Bilbo, his arm over his waist and nose gently pressing into the curly hair. Bilbo snuggled back a bit and laid a hand over Bofur’s at his middle.

“Comfortable?” Bofur asked, barely stifling his yawn.

Bilbo closed his eyes with a blissful smile. The strong arm around him and the large body behind felt so pleasantly warm and heavy. “Very much so. You?”

Bofur raised his head to kiss the shell of Bilbo’s ear, which made the hobbit let out a little giggle at the unexpected tickling from the mustache. Bofur laid his head back down and said, “Now I am.”

As the two settled into sleep, Bilbo hoped he would be able to spend nights in this dwarf’s arms for a long time.

********

_“No!” Bofur struggled to break free of the men holding him back. “No, please! Don’t touch him!”_

_“Bofur!” Bilbo shouted, trying to get out of the iron hold of another man, the man who had broken Bofur before._

_“My, you are a feisty little one,” Yevin commented. “Just like Bofur was when we first caught and started training him.”_

_“No, you can’t!” Bofur cried. “Let him go! Leave him alone!”_

_“Thought you were clever, did you?” Yevin taunted the dwarf. He knelt down behind Bilbo, clutching the kicking hobbit against his chest. “So what is it you’re doing?” he hissed into Bilbo’s ear. “Trying to fix him? Make him all better from what we did?”_

_“We’ve done nothing to you,” Bilbo protested. “Leave us alone!” He stamped down on Yevin’s foot, but it made no real impact through the boots, and the man chuckled at the attempt._

_“That’s right, keep fighting,” Yevin goaded._

_“Stop, please!” Bofur shouted. “I’ll do anything, just don’t hurt him!”_

_“I’m sure you would,” the man remarked. Then he shoved Bilbo forward into the back of an armchair. He made a gesture to the men restraining Bofur._

_As soon as the hands left him, Bofur bolted towards Bilbo. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whispered, holding the hobbit tightly. He looked back to the men. “Don’t- don’t do this.”_

_“You’ve forgotten your place, and this halfling did too.”_

_Bofur’s face hardened. “Don’t touch him again.”_

_“Or what? What are you going to do? You could do nothing for yourself. What makes you think you can do anything for him?”_

_Bofur couldn’t just sit there. He had to protect the one he loved. He had to stop this from happening. Even though he had no real chance against the group of men, he got up and charged at Yevin. Yevin sidestepped and kicked at the dwarf’s knee, sending Bofur crashing to the floor, clutching at his leg and sucking in pained breaths through his teeth._

_“Bofur!” Bilbo cried out, starting to rush to him, but he was immediately caught by Yevin and picked up, then thrown back to the floor._

_Bofur turned over to get up, but the weight of two of the men suddenly sitting on his back only left him able to scrabble at the hardwood beneath his fingers, desperately searching for any grip to pull himself forward._

_“I must say, we’ve never had a hobbit before,” Yevin mused, approaching Bilbo. “As far as they go, this one is quite handsome. He could do pretty well.” He bent down to pick Bilbo up to his feet. Bilbo pushed and kicked out, but the man’s strength was too much, and he was once again held against him. He coughed as Yevin’s arm looped around his neck, and a large hand tore the collar of his nightshirt. “I should probably test him out first, though. Find out if he would be worth it.”_

_“No!” Bofur redoubled his efforts to throw the men off him. But he could do nothing to move their weight enough. “No! Don’t hurt him!” He couldn’t stop the tears stinging in his eyes and leaking down his face. The horror of what this man was about to do to Bilbo, to the one he loved… “Please! No-”_

“No! Bilbo!” Bofur bolted upright with a yell. At the touch of hands on his chest, he shoved whoever they belonged to away in a panic. But when they returned, he realized they were smaller than any man’s or dwarf’s hands that had touched him.

Bilbo’s voice from the darkness said his name urgently, but softly enough to make Bofur not panic again.

Bofur squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed heavily. His racing heart thudded loudly in his ears. His first nightmare since they had started sleeping together over a week ago. He had hoped he would never have one about that terrible time again, but his mind proved him wrong on that account.

“I’m sorry,” Bofur said, placing his hands over the hobbit’s on his chest. He struggled to swallow past the lump that suddenly formed in his throat.

Bilbo scooted in close, eyes shining with concern. “Tell me?”

Bofur took a breath that sounded more like a sob. “He… he came here, and… and he was hurting you. I-I was helpless to do anything to stop it, to protect you.” He broke down into tears. “He was hurting you…” He melted into the other’s tight embrace when Bilbo pulled him in, the smaller hands on his back and in his hair. Bilbo started making soothing sounds and kissing his forehead, patient with him, as always.

“If he… if this happens… watching him touch you, hurt you… it would destroy me completely. To watch him break you, like he did me…”

Bilbo took Bofur’s face in his hands and angled it up to start kissing it. “That’s not going to happen. He is not going to come here, and take you or me away. We’re safe from that, safe from him.”

Bofur wanted to believe it, he did, but part of him was always going to have that fear, especially now that he had found a person to love. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t. Don’t be sorry for any of this. You’ve made so much progress, but you’re still healing from what they did.”

Bofur let out a long shaky breath as he lowered his head back to under Bilbo’s chin. “I want… I want to forget it all. I don’t want the memories and fears to plague me anymore.”

“I know. You just need some more time. What you went through needs time to heal.” Bilbo kissed the top of his head. “And you will.”

Bofur wiped at the tears on his face and breathed in the comforting scent of the hobbit. The arms around him had the needed sense of strength and security. “Where would I be without you?” he whispered into the soft fabric of Bilbo’s nightshirt.

Bilbo didn’t answer the question, but consoled, “I won’t abandon you. I’m here.” He started a gentle rocking motion. “I’m here.”

It took them both a while to fall back to sleep.

********

Bofur slipped his hand from Bilbo’s as they started heading home from their late evening walk. He was anxious about what he was about to say to the hobbit, getting more so now that he had resolved to say it now. “Bilbo?”

Bilbo seemed to recognize the tone as one the dwarf used when he wanted to talk about something sensitive, and stopped walking to look into his face. “Yes?”

Bofur took both of Bilbo’s hands between his own. “I… I want you. I want to… have you, tonight.”

“Tonight? That’s… that’s a good thing, and I don’t mind tonight.”

“But, I’m… I’m afraid. Not of you, of course. But I’m afraid of-of hurting you.”

“I see.” Bilbo took a step forward. “Bofur, I want this. I want you to have me. And I know you won’t hurt me.”

“How can you know that?”

“You say how much you trust me? Well, I trust you. As long as we have that trust, I know you won’t.”

Bofur glanced down to their hands. “Right. It’s just that I don’t want you to feel anything like I did, when I was… None of that.”

“You’re nothing like them. Don’t ever think you are, or that you could be.”

Bofur nodded. “I love you so much, so the possibility of hurting you…”

“We’ll take it slow tonight. Though I doubt you were planning on being particularly vigorous with me anyway.”

Bofur chuckled, relief flooding through him as Bilbo pulled him in the direction of Bag-end.

Once in Bilbo’s bedroom, they removed their shirts and spent a few minutes just kissing, gentle but with intent. It was Bilbo who then took the initiative, pulling Bofur to the bed and down onto the sheets with him, on top of him.

Bofur nuzzled his nose against the hobbit’s cheek, feeling his body beginning to respond to his desire. He hadn’t been alarmed about it since the first time, but now he felt an anticipation for it, ready for it now.

“We should get out of our trousers at some point,” Bilbo prompted with a light laugh.

Bofur joined in with a laugh of his own. “That is generally how this goes, yes.”

They repositioned so that they were lying side-by-side, allowing their hands the freedom to tug at the waistband of the other’s trousers and breeches and wiggle out of them. Once those had joined the shirts on the floor, they spent a long moment just looking at each other’s naked bodies, Bofur not having seen Bilbo fully unclothed before.

“So beautiful,” Bofur whispered, going in for a kiss. “May I…?”

“Go ahead. That’s what tonight is about,” Bilbo encouraged.

Bofur’s hand ghosted down Bilbo’s torso before stroking the inside of his thigh, inching closer to the half-erect cock. Smaller than his own, but still of good size. He hoped for the opportunity to feel it inside him, on another night. He gently wrapped his hand around it and stroked and lightly pumped. He watched as Bilbo’s eyelids fluttered and fingers grasped the sheets.

Then Bilbo’s hand wrapped around Bofur’s cock, repeating the motion, leaving Bofur panting, enjoying the physical sense of pleasure seeping into him. He didn’t think about the last time he had been touched this way by his choice. He was completely here and now, with Bilbo.

Then Bilbo’s mouth was on his chest, kissing and sucking at the bare skin. Their hands left each other’s cocks to roam and explore elsewhere. It wasn’t long before both were fully hard and ready for this to go further.

Bofur shifted so that he was on his knees half-hovering over Bilbo, who nodded and smiled his encouragement. Bofur reached over for the small flask of oil that Bilbo had taken out of a drawer earlier. He dripped a few drops over Bilbo’s cock, and coated two of his fingers liberally with it. He didn’t want to take any chance of hurting the hobbit.

With his clean hand, Bofur started pumping and palming Bilbo’s cock, relishing in the little moans that escaped from the hobbit’s mouth. At the moan of “I want you now…” Bofur ran a slickened finger down Bilbo’s crack, gently prodding at the entrance.

“Please…”

Bofur pressed in, slowly, making sure Bilbo was fine before pushing further. He was so tight, and for a moment, Bofur worried that he wouldn’t fit without hurting the smaller person. But Bilbo smiled and encouraged him to keep going. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready.”

Bofur eventually added his second finger in with the first, thoroughly stretching and preparing Bilbo for him. He waited until Bilbo said, “I’m ready for you. I want you now,” to withdraw his fingers and press the head of his cock at the entrance. Bilbo wrapped his legs around Bofur’s waist.

Bofur was cautious, careful to not let his desire and growing passion overtake him. There was an initial gasp from Bilbo as he slowly pushed in, which turned into a long breathy moan soon after.

Both took a moment to get used to the position, then found a slow rolling rhythm. Bofur dropped down, his forearms on either side of Bilbo’s head, his eyes closed as he felt nearly overwhelmed by the pleasure of their bodies combining and moving together, and the sounds they made. Bilbo craned his head up to capture Bofur’s lips with his, and their breaths and moans mingled together.

Bofur moved a hand down between their bodies until he was able to stoke at Bilbo’s cock again, wanting to do as much for the hobbit. He also dropped his head to kiss and suck at the sensitive skin of Bilbo’s neck. Bilbo’s hands curled on Bofur’s back, lightly scratching.

“I’m so close…” Bofur whispered, feeling the pressure building.

One of Bilbo’s hands moved up to pet through Bofur’s hair. “That’s it… I’m getting close, too.”

Bofur didn’t want to finish inside Bilbo, not yet. He pulled out and started grinding down, grazing their cocks against each other. He came first with a little cry, his seed shooting out onto their stomachs. He kept up the movement, riding it out, and giving Bilbo enough to follow suit quickly after.

Bofur propped himself up on his elbows above Bilbo, staring down at the blissful face, knowing he had a similar expression on his. Though he couldn’t help but to quietly ask, ”You alright?”

Bilbo nodded and took Bofur’s face in his hands. “You?”

“Aye.” Bofur keeled to the side in happy exhaustion.

“Good. Very good.”

They simply laid there for a while, softly kissing and whispering affectionate words, content in the love they had made.


	15. Chapter 15

Bofur emerged from his room, pulling on a tunic over his damp hair, fresh from the bath. He stopped when he found Bilbo standing by the window next to the front door, looking like he was trying to hide from something outside. “Bilbo?”

The hobbit jumped, and put his hand over his chest when he saw who had called his name.

“Everything alright?” Bofur asked, confused because he had never seen Bilbo act this way. “Don’t tell me the Sackville-Bagginses are bothering you.”

Bilbo let out a little nervous chuckle as he moved away from the window. “No, though at least I know how to deal with them.”

Bofur looked through the window, having to turn his neck awkwardly to catch a glimpse of the man-sized figure in grey robes and a grey conical hat walking down the lane away from the house. He grasped the doorknob to open the door and get a better look, but Bilbo stopped him.

“Don’t do that, he might take it as an invitation.”

Bofur looked through the window again, until the person disappeared from view. His initial feeling of seeing the large figure was anxiety of someone who was looking specifically for him, for less than pleasant reasons. He hadn’t seen anyone larger than him in Hobbiton. But then he thought for a moment. He couldn’t be sure, but he remembered hearing of a wizard in grey robes. He turned back to Bilbo, who was now calmer. “What did he want?”

“He’s Gandalf the Grey. He was under the wrong impression that I would like to join him on an adventure.”

Bofur went to the door again to see if he could catch another glimpse. Bilbo pulled his arm away. “Hey, it’s not every day you can see a wizard.”

“He used to come around every Midsummer’s Eve, lighting off his fireworks.”

Bofur nodded. “So he wanted you to join on his adventures?”

“I told him no, we don’t want any adventures here. He was quite insistent, and he mentioned something about telling ‘the others.’ But I think I discouraged him.”

“Well he did walk away, so maybe.” Bofur kissed Bilbo’s cheek. “I wouldn’t worry about him too much.”

********

Bilbo came to Bofur’s market stall that afternoon. “I was thinking fish tonight for dinner.”

“Sounds good to me,” Bofur replied, looking up from the piece of wood he was whittling.

“Right, then I’ll get some. I’ll see you at home.”

Bofur nodded, and watched Bilbo walk around the market. He was constantly glancing around and over his shoulder, and Bofur easily guessed what had him so worked up. His more mischievous nature reared up, and he saw a perfect opportunity.

Bofur waited until after Bilbo had bought their dinner, and had stopped to chat with Mister Worrywort, then told the young woman with the laundry basket, which had a cone-shaped fold on top, walk behind a row of stalls with the basket on her head. He chuckled to himself as Bilbo saw it, and hid behind Worrywort. “Funny little thing…” he affectionately said under his breath.

********

Bofur laughed when Bilbo swatted his hand a third time from around the hobbit’s middle.

“Do you want me to burn the fish?” Bilbo asked.

“What if I like burnt fish?”

Bilbo raised his brow in a glare. “I’ve made enough food for you, including fish, to know you don’t. Now go sit before I decide to ban you from the kitchen.”

“Fair enough.” Bofur kissed the other’s cheek and took a spot at the dining room table. Dinner was brought out a few minutes later, and when Bilbo set the plate down in front of him, he joked, “I don’t know, I think you could’ve left it on a little longer.”

“Then next time you can cook it,” Bilbo shot back, his tone just as light-hearted.

Bofur had just taken a bite, and Bilbo was spreading spices over his fish, when there was a very loud bellring at the door. Both froze. No one had ever come calling this late before. That old fear of someone coming to take him away resurfaced in Bofur’s mind, and he anxiously swallowed.

“I’ll get it,” Bilbo said at the second ring. He patted Bofur’s shoulder when he got up.

Bofur tried to calm his nerves, but that went out the window when he heard the gruff and unmistakably dwarven voice say, “Dwalin, at your service.” He quickly and quietly got up, taking his plate with him so the visitor wouldn’t immediately know he was here, and hid around a corner of the atrium. He could duck into the study if he needed to hide further.

The only thing a dwarf, one who Bofur didn’t recognize by name, could want with Bilbo was him. He couldn’t help but to think negatively about this unexpected visitor who had no business with Bilbo. Bofur closed his eyes and stayed still as he heard the heavy footsteps move to the dining room, followed by the lighter ones of the hobbit.

There was relative quiet for a couple minutes, save the sounds of eating, followed by a compliment of Bilbo’s cooking. Bofur just wanted the dwarf to state what he was here for, why he was invading their home with reluctant invitation.

Bofur nearly dropped his plate to the floor at another bellring.

“That’ll be the door,” Dwalin prompted, and Bofur heard Bilbo go to answer it.

“Balin, at your service.”

Two dwarves? Bofur didn’t recognize either of their names as being from that horrible place, but that did little to calm his anxiety. Were any more going to come? Why were they arriving separately? It had to be to get Bilbo’s and his own guard down, until they could easily be overpowered.

Bofur ducked back further into the shadows when the two dwarves walked past to the pantry. He saw Bilbo glance around for him, but didn’t make any other movement, not wanting to be at all seen or heard. Then Bilbo returned his attention back to the uninvited guests, who had started going through and inspecting the food in the pantry. He watched as they did so, with Bilbo trying to tell them that they must be in the wrong house.

Then the doorbell rang again. When Bilbo went to answer it, Bofur decided he needed to know, now before anyone else came, what their purpose was here. He quietly put his place down on the floor, and grabbed the knife. It probably wouldn’t do much against two dwarves, but he had to have something to try to fight with if it came to that.

Hiding in the shadows, suspicious and anxious of dwarf strangers... It wasn’t like Bofur, and it only served to remind him that he still wasn’t fully himself and how he used to be.

Bofur took a breath and stepped into their line of sight, holding the knife out in front of him. “Who are you?” he demanded.

The two turned to him, the one in green and furs large and intimidating with his face fierce, especially when he saw the knife in Bofur’s hand. The one in red was shorter, with a kinder face and expression, though Bofur noted the strangely-shaped sword on his belt.

“You’ll be wanting to put that knife down, lad,” Dwalin said, stepping towards him with a threatening tone.

Bofur stood his ground. He wasn’t going to be intimidated into submission. Not here. “What do you want? Did you know I was here?”

Balin stopped Dwalin from taking another threatening step with an arm, and smiled. “We were only told to meet a hobbit here. You’re a surprise.” The two intruding dwarves looked him up and down.

“Obviously not one of our party,” Dwalin stated. “None of them would greet us with a knife in hand.”

“We’re not here for you, whatever your reason for being here is. If you think we’re here to cause ill will on you or the hobbit, you’re mistaken,” Balin assured.

Something about the older dwarf’s face and eyes made Bofur want to believe him. His eyes flickered between the sword on Balin’s hip, and the knuckledusters on Dwalin’s hands. Then he let out a tense breath as he lowered the knife and held it behind his back. He believed they weren’t here for him. They hadn’t acted in any way as though they were, other than being uninvited.

“Mister Dwalin,” a young dark-haired dwarf greeted. Dwalin went to him and put an arm over his shoulders. “Come on lad, we’ll need to move this table if we’re going to let everyone fit.”

“Everyone?” Bilbo repeated, incredulous at all this. Then the bell rang for the fourth time.

The two younger newcomers stopped at the sight of Bofur, barefoot but still in his usual light tunic and trousers dayclothes. “Hello,” the blonde one greeted. “You must’ve arrived earlier than us. I’m Fili, and my brother is Kili.”

“If this is some clodhead’s idea of a joke, it is in very poor taste!” Bilbo near-shouted on his way to the door.

“Bofur, at your… I’m Bofur,” Bofur introduced himself to the four dwarves with a slight bow of the head.

At the sound of heavy falls and grunts, Bofur hurried to the door, to find the hobbit staring down at a pile of dwarves who had fallen in. His eyes widened at the familiar heads he saw within it, especially three of them. He opened his mouth, but couldn’t make any real sound.

Bofur took a few shocked steps back as the group started to get up and disentangle themselves. “Bom… Bombur? Bifur?” he managed to say in a disbelieving voice. “Nori?” The two dwarves he didn’t know went to join Balin and the others in rearranging the dining room. But the two members of his family and Nori, Dori, and Ori stood there, staring at him like they had seen a ghost. He could hardly blame them for that, since he was just as astonished at seeing them here.

Bofur barely noticed Gandalf duck inside through the door and past the group of dwarves still standing awestruck. “Well…” Bofur cleared his throat. “This is… this is-“ He suddenly found himself engulfed in five pairs of arms.

“You are alive!” Bombur said into his ear.

‘What happened to you?” asked Nori when they all released him. “How’d you end up here?”

Bofur put on a little smile, hoping it would be enough to delay their need to know, at least for a little while. “I’ll tell you later in private.” He was yanked into another hug, this time just from Bifur, who started growling Khuzdul in his ear, too low and quick to be decipherable, but Bofur got the meaning. Then Bifur slightly pulled back and pressed their foreheads together, turning his head enough to adjust for the axe.

“Are you lot going to help or just stand there?” Dwalin asked, obviously not understanding what was going on.

“Come on,” Bofur prompted the others around him. “I promise we’ll talk later.” He hung back a bit as they moved to join the throng. “Oh dear,” he commented, watching the group of dwarves grabbing food from the pantry and rearranging the furniture, and the astonished Bilbo in the middle of them all.

“Put that back… put that back… not my prize-winners!” Bilbo protested, pulling a bowl of tomatoes from Ori’s hands. “Bit excessive isn’t it?” he commented to Bombur, walking past with three wheels of cheese. “You have a cheese knife?”

Bofur stepped into the fray. “Cheese knife? He eats it by the block.” At Bilbo’s wince, he quietly offered, “I could try to keep them in hand. I don’t know how successful I’ll be, but I can try.”

Bilbo shook his head. “No, I’ll manage. You… you enjoy yourself. Be with your family.” His assuring smile fell when he saw Oin carrying a chair, and he rushed to him. “No, not that! That’s grandmother’s chair. It’s an antique, not for sitting on. Put it back!”

Bofur let out a little relieved breath. He had no idea how he would even start to control the eleven dwarves who were bringing out food and chairs to accommodate them all. And while he didn’t know half of them, he came to the decision he could trust them, if his family and friends were among the group. Not to mention it looked like this was shaping up to be quite a party, something he wasn’t known to be reserved at.

Though there was one thing he needed to clear up before he joined in. He turned to Gandalf, who was looking forlornly at a very small glass between his fingers. He tentatively addressed the wizard.

“Yes…?”

“Bofur,” Bofur introduced himself. “Did you… did you know I was here?”

“I can’t say I did,” Gandalf answered before turning to take a stack of plates from Fili.

Bofur nodded, and took a bowl of nuts from Dori.

Bofur did enjoy himself. How could he not with good food, drink, and company? He was still a little leery at Dwalin, but not enough to affect his fun. Not to mention it was endearing to see Bilbo flustered. The only harm done was to the contents of the pantry, and Bofur would make sure to restock it himself, if Bilbo asked. It felt as though it had been a lifetime since he had been in the presence of his people like this. And it felt so good, so uplifting.

The group quieted down a bit after they had finished eating, and making a bit of a mess with the uneaten food. Bofur got up from the table and stood by himself, picking up his metal flute he had made.

“Excuse me, that is a doily, not a dishcloth,” Bilbo said, following Nori from the dining room. He took it from the dwarf and started folding it.

“But it’s full of holes,” Bofur teased.

“It’s crochet, it’s supposed to look like that,” Bilbo shot back.

“Oh aye, and what a wonderful game it is too, if you’ve got the balls for it,” Bofur joked. He took delight at the exasperated sigh from the hobbit.

“My dear Bilbo, whatever’s the matter?” Gandalf asked, stepping in.

Bofur noticed Nori looking at the items on the shelf in a certain way, and pounced forward, pulling him away by the sausage links over his shoulder. Nori pulled back, but Bofur was able to get him away. “Don’t,” Bofur sternly to his friend. “I live here too.” He wasn’t insulted, since Nori was always keeping an eye out for valuable things.

“Oh, right. Sorry,” Nori quickly apologized. “I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

“Good.” Bofur went back to sit at the dining room table with a few of the others, who were entertaining themselves by striking silverware together. Bofur smiled and put his flute on the table, then grabbed a couple knives and joined in. The plate sailing past the doorway didn’t escape his attention.

“Could you not do that? You’ll blunt them,” Bilbo scolded.

Bofur really would owe Bilbo when this was over for indulging himself so far into the cheerful atmosphere, at his expense. He flashed the hobbit a grin. “Oh, you hear that, lads? He’s says we’ll blunt the knives.”

“Blunt the knives…” Kili started singing.

“Bend the forks…” Fili continued.

It didn’t take any more than that for Bofur and the others to sing a popular drinking song, substituting the name for Bilbo’s, as they started to clean up the leftover food and dirty dishes. Bofur played his flute, joining Dwalin’s fiddle.

They presented the clean dishes to Bilbo just as their song finished, all laughing and smiling. Bilbo looked relieved, and Bofur winked at him.

Then there was a loud knock on the door, which brought the laughter to a stop. Gandalf announced, “He is here.”

“Who?” Bilbo and Bofur asked most of the other dwarves started heading to the door after Gandalf. No one seemed to hear them to answer.

Another dwarf stepped in, of regal bearing. “Gandalf, I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way twice, and never would’ve found it had it not been for the mark on the door.”

Bilbo pushed forward. “Mark? There’s no mark. It was painted last week.”

Bofur didn’t push forward to the front, but he did move to the side of the group for a better view.

“May I introduce the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield,” Gandalf introduced.

Thorin Oakenshield? Now that was definitely a name Bofur had heard. What dwarf hadn’t? Whatever this was that was going on, it had to very important for Thorin to show up in the Shire to meet them.

But his awe at his presence turned to annoyance, and an irritation rose in him, at the way Thorin looked over Bilbo, asking him questions and commenting with a dismissive tone, resulting some of the other dwarves laughing at the hobbit.

When Thorin and the others headed for the dining room, Thorin taking a short moment to notice Bofur’s comparative state of dress to the others but not mentioning anything, Bofur went to Bilbo’s side. Bilbo shook his head slightly, muttering, “It’s alright, no harm done.”

“I still don’t like his attitude towards you,” Bofur replied just as quietly.

“Yes, well, that does leave something to be desired. But it’s fine. Let’s see what all this fuss is about.”

They went to the dining room to find everyone finding a place around the table and sitting down. Balin smiled at Bofur and gestured for him to join them and sit beside him. Bofur glanced to Bilbo, who encouragingly nodded. Bofur knew what he was doing, wanting him to try to be as involved with these dwarves, and he appreciated it. He took the offered seat, and though he wasn’t sure about being directly to Thorin’s right, he was interested.

Bilbo hung back, due to lack of space around the table and not wanting to get too involved in the starting discussion.

Bofur kept relatively quiet, lighting his pipe and smoking it while he listened. He became particularly interested when Gandalf took out a map and unfolded it on the table in front of Thorin. He leaned in close to see it, and so did Bilbo.

“The… lonely mountain,” Bilbo read.

Now Bofur completely understood what was going on. A quest to reclaim Erebor and its treasure. How exciting, but were only twelve dwarves and Gandalf able to succeed at such a thing?

“Beast?” Bilbo asked in response to Oin. “What beast?”

Bofur spoke up to answer. “Well, that would be a reference to Smaug the Terrible, chiefest and greatest calamity of our age. Airborne fire-breather, teeth like razors, claws like meathooks… extremely fond of precious metals-“

“Yes, I know what a dragon is,” Bilbo responded. He flashed Bofur a quick smile as a show of thanks.

After an outburst from Ori that led to some shouting, Balin put to words Bofur’s earlier thoughts about the possibility of success. “This would be a difficult enough task with an army behind us, but we only number twelve, and not twelve of our best… or brightest.”

Thorin quickly shut down the shouting that resulted, and Bofur was content to simply listen to the conversation again. Then the concept of needing a burglar came up, and Bilbo was asked about his skills as such.

Bofur had to stifle his chuckle at the idea. He didn’t have any doubt that Bilbo could be quiet enough to be burglar material, but the idea of the gentlehobbit going off to do such things… well, he supposed stranger things had happened. He kept himself from protesting on Bilbo’s behalf, and he didn’t encourage the idea, either. He wanted Bilbo to make his own decision, though it was obvious what he thought, the idea leaving him stammering his refusal. Bofur sighed at another argument amongst the group if Bilbo would actually be any use.

Gandalf suddenly stood, using a very powerful voice to stop the argument. “If I say Bilbo Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar he is!”

Bofur blinked a few times. He had no doubt of the wizard’s conviction, but it would take more than his declaration to make Bilbo into a burglar, especially one that could steal from a dragon.

Gandalf sat down and calmly explained his choice for the burglar. Then he leaned closer to Thorin. “You asked me to find the thirteenth member of this company, and I have chosen Mr Baggins. You must trust me on this.”

Bofur took a long draw of his pipe. Why was Gandalf so set on using Bilbo? No one had even properly asked him yet. And where did that leave Bofur? No one had asked him if he would go, either. He wouldn’t make Bilbo’s choice for him, wouldn’t try to sway his decision either way. But he couldn’t help to think what could become of him.

“Give him the contract,” Thorin said.

Balin handed the contract over to Thorin, who roughly pushed it at Bilbo.

“Funeral arrangements?” Bilbo repeated at Balin’s summary of what the contract contained. He opened the parchment, and Bofur listened to him read it.

“Incineration?” Bilbo asked loudly, looking back to the group.

Bofur meant to set Bilbo at ease with a sort of gallows humour. “Oh aye, he’ll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye.” He should have stopped when Bilbo started to look like he was about to faint. “Think furnace, with wings.”

“Air. I-I need air…”

Bofur stood, and he really should’ve stopped at this point. But the presence of the dwarves made him forget the relative sensitivity of such thoughts to hobbits. “Flash of light, searing pain… then poof! You’re nothing more than a pile of ash.” As he watched Bilbo faint, he knew he would really owe the hobbit after tonight.

After carrying Bilbo to an armchair and bringing him around, apologizing profusely, Bofur relented to Gandalf’s presence nearby, and left the two to talk.

Bofur gathered Bifur, Bombur, and Nori to a room out of earshot from the others, wanting no chance of being overheard.

“You’re rather close to Bilbo,” Nori stated.

“Yes, well, there’s good reason for that.” Bofur let out a long breath. “I suppose it’s time to tell you what happened to me.”

So he told them, and in doing so, felt a weight lifting from his chest. He had dreaded telling them the horrors that had happened, of what it had done to him. But he needed to, and he didn’t care that silent tears leaked from his eyes as he did. He was relieved that the disgust on their faces wasn’t meant for him, but for the people who had done this to him. Even though he knew in his heart they could never blame him, it still lifted his spirit to see it, to see that they didn’t think of him as a filthy disgrace. He also appreciated Bifur and Nori restraining themselves from interjecting with thoughts of revenge.

“Then… I was taken to Bree, to be sold to the highest bidder. Bilbo… he bought me, but not to hurt me. By some stroke of luck, or maybe Mahal finally answered the prayers I had stopped, I was bought by a hobbit who wanted nothing more than to help me. It took me a little time to even understand that was his intention. But then I came to trust him, for he has done nothing to harm me.”

Bifur gave him a look that asked, “ _And now?_ ”

“And now… I love him. And he loves me.”

Everyone was quiet for a long moment, taking in everything Bofur had told them. Then Bombur asked, “Were you planning to come back?”

“Of course I was. I just… wasn’t ready yet. I didn’t feel… I don’t know. Not ready.” Bofur chuckled. “But then you all show up here, completely out of the blue.”

“You’re part of the reason Bifur and I signed up,” Bombur replied. “We thought we might get word of where you were or what happened to you while travelling.”

“Quite our luck that we’ve found you before even properly starting this quest,” Nori commented.

Bilbo poked his head in. “Sorry, hope I’m not interu-“ He squeaked when Bifur quickly got up and grabbed him by the shoulders.

“It’s alright,” Bofur said. “Bifur, you don’t have to hold onto him that tight.”

Bifur slightly relaxed his grip, and continued looking Bilbo over, including turning his head side-to-side, then unnervingly staring into his eyes. Bilbo broke the gaze, his eyes flickering over to Bofur.

Satisfied, Bifur finally let the hobbit go and sat back down. Bilbo cleared his throat and straightened his shirt. “Um… I told Gandalf no. He’s got the wrong person for the job. So… I bid you all goodnight.” He flashed a quick look to Bofur before leaving.

Bofur turned to the other three dwarves. “I would appreciate if you don’t breathe a word about what happened to me to the others. I don’t… I don’t want their pity or anything like that.”

“Dori and Ori will ask, but I’ll think of something to tell them,” Nori replied.

“Of course this is safe with us,” Bombur nodded.

“Speaking of the others, you should probably get back to them before they wonder where you’ve disappeared to.”

Nori and Bifur left. Bofur grabbed Bombur’s arm to make him stay. Then he sighed and stared into one of the lit candles.

“You’re doing what Bifur does sometimes, staring into fire,” Bombur stated after a moment.

“Aye… I don’t do it as much as when I first got here, but…” Bofur shook his head and a sad smile appeared on his face. “I hope you never experience anything that makes you do it, too.”

Bombur pulled him into a tight embrace. Bofur melted into it. The younger brother said, “Everyone at home has been doing well. Though getting a nice share of gold would make them very well off.”

“Aye, I’m sure it would.” Bofur pulled away. “How… how has Bifur been, since I…?”

“Quieter, more withdrawn. He blames himself for it. Says he should’ve fought harder, searched longer.”

“I don’t blame him or Nori. Yevin wanted me, and he was going to get me. I’m just glad those two are alright, that those people didn’t kill them or hurt them.”

“If they ever come across Yevin, I doubt they’ll have the same courtesy.”

“Can’t say I’d feel at all bad for him.”

“Bofur, would you come with us? On this quest, I mean.”

“Thorin hasn’t asked me.”

“We could put in a good word for you.”

“I don’t know. I’ll have to think on it.” Bofur sighed. “I’m going to tell Bilbo goodnight, and I’ll join you in a bit.”

Bofur found Bilbo sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning against the post, with a tired and contemplative expression on his face. “What a night,” he commented.

“Indeed,” Bilbo sighed.

“If you don’t mind, I’ll stay up with them for the night.”

“Of course I don’t mind. I’m certain I can survive without you tonight,” Bilbo responded with a little smile. “And you really should be with your family.”

Both stopped at the sound of slow singing. Bofur recognized the words and tune, and started singing it as well, feeling a deep connection with the other dwarves, even though he wasn’t in the same room. When the song ended, he kissed Bilbo. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Bofur?” Bilbo called out after the dwarf had taken a couple steps away. When he turned back, the hobbit said, “You can go. With them, I mean. If you want to.”

“I… I don’t know.”

“I have no right to keep you here. I don’t want to hold you back.”

“How could you think you hold me back? Bilbo-“

“At least… at least think about it?”

“Aye, right… I’ll think it over.” Bofur kissed Bilbo goodnight again, this time wrapping his arms around him and holding on a few seconds after their mouths parted.

As he went to rejoin the other dwarves, Bofur did think about the possibility of leaving with them, uncertain of how he felt about it.

********

Bofur watched, sitting on the porch steps, as the company of Gandalf and the dwarves set off, disappearing into the horizon of rolling hills lit by the morning sun. He let out a long breath as they became too small to see, and absentmindedly spun his mattock on its head between his feet.

He didn’t turn at the sound that came through the half-open door of footsteps on wooden tiled floor behind him, or the address of his name, as Bilbo joined him on the steps.

“I thought you had gone, when I didn’t see anyone inside.”

“Gone without saying goodbye? I wouldn’t do that.” Bofur noticed Bilbo eyeing the mattock and explained, “My old mining tool and weapon. Bifur brought it along, in case they found me while on the way to Erebor. Rather optimistic of him, I thought.”

“He didn’t have to carry it around for very long.”

“Aye, that is fortunately true.”

“So… you didn’t want to go?”

Bofur let out a long breath. “I do, but… I’m not the same dwarf I used to be before… before all this. Not yet, at least. I don’t think I’m ready for such an adventure.”

Bilbo turned Bofur’s head with a hand on his cheek to look him in the eyes. “I think you are.”

Bofur smiled his gratitude at the sentiment and placed his hand over Bilbo’s on his face.

Bilbo glanced inside for a few seconds, and Bofur followed his eyeline to the unfolded contract on a table. “You want to know something?”

“Aye?”

Bilbo’s gaze went back to meet Bofur’s. “So am I.”

They stared at each other for a few seconds, then got up and hurried to the contract. Bilbo took it to his study desk and signed his name on the indicated line. Bofur scrawled his in the empty space beneath.

“They’re not far,” Bofur stated. “If we hurry, we can still catch them.”

********

Bofur and Bilbo burst from Bag-End, packs bouncing on their backs, the contract trailing in the air in Bilbo’s hand, and Bofur’s mattock held at his side.

They passed by a few hobbits doing their morning routines. Mister Worrywort called after them as they raced past. “Mr Bilbo, Mr Bofur, where are you going?”

“Can’t stop, we’re already late!” Bilbo answered.

“Late for what?”

“We’re going on an adventure!” the hobbit and dwarf shouted out together.

They had already shared a journey together, though one much different. With Bilbo’s help, Bofur had slain much of the effects inflicted upon him in that horrible place by Yevin and the others. He had regained much of what he had lost, what he thought he could never regain.

At one time, he had lost his spirit, his will. And now here he was, with the one who had saved him, the one who he loved, at his side, as they chased after Thorin’s Company.

“Thank you,” Bofur said in Khuzdul to his maker, to Mahal. “Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading and commenting :)


	16. The Quest: Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While the main story is finished, I wanted to explore the effects of everything that happened to Bofur, while on the quest. So that's what the coming chapters will be.

Bofur would not forget the expressions on the faces of his family and friends as he and Bilbo hurried up to them. They were ones of pleased surprise. They hadn’t been keen on leaving him behind in Bag-End, though they did understand his reasons for staying. Bofur was just as glad that that good-bye hadn’t been for long.

“Welcome, Bilbo Baggins and Bofur, to the company of Thorin Oakenshield,” Balin said after checking their signatures on the contract.

“Give them ponies,” Thorin commanded.

Bofur chuckled as Bilbo protested the idea of riding a pony, and then at the sight of Fili and Kili lifting him up and placing him on one as they rode past him. Bofur found another that also had packs on it, and climbed up. He gave Bilbo a quick peck on the check as he trotted past him, and went to have a quiet conversation with Bifur, Bombur, and Nori. All he said in explanation for changing his mind on coming was that Bilbo convinced him that he was able to do it.

The next couple of days passed smoothly enough, with Bofur getting to know most of the others when they stopped and made camp for the night, though he tended to keep a good distance between himself and Dwalin. Thorin seemed to keep himself away, and Bofur wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He did also get a straight answer from Gandalf about if the wizard really had known about him before knocking. Gandalf had heard of a dwarf living in Hobbiton, but had not known his name or that his family had joined the quest in hopes of finding a sign of him.

He was quietly appreciative of the sleeping arrangement that Bifur and Bombur had taken upon themselves. His cousin at his back, and his brother at Bilbo’s, in a protective manner. The other dwarves would raise their eyebrows or exchange glances when he and Bilbo would be moderately affectionate, but most of those looks were of curiosity and were harmless.

Bofur did hear the occasional hushed conversations between the others that would stop when he got too close, wondering how he had come to stay in Hobbiton in the first place, but he didn’t pay those any mind. Much better that they speculate and come up with whatever increasingly wild theories, than know what had happened to him.

“So, Bofur,” Fili called out from the other side of the fire one night. “How does one get himself a hobbit? They look rather cuddly, if yours is anything to go by.”

Bofur glanced down at Bilbo, who was sitting in his lap with his cheek against the dwarf’s chest. He wasn’t asleep, just relaxing. Both of them joined in the chuckles from some of the others. Bofur answered, “I’ve found one way to a hobbit’s heart is good food.”

“Considering the state of my pantry when we left, that’s the same for dwarves,” Bilbo remarked.

The resulting laughter warmed Bofur’s heart. He and Bilbo were the two outsiders, Bilbo more so than he, and the feeling of being accepted by the others would be irreplaceable.

Kili said with a wink, “The question I want answered is how a hobbit caught himself quite the handsome dwarf. I mean, what would I have to pay to get him for a night?”

It was a joke, a harmless joke, one that Bofur would’ve probably made before all that happened. But his body still tensed, his hand tightening on the back of Bilbo’s jacket. Bilbo’s body froze as well, before he managed to say in a polite and casual tone, trying to not call attention to their stress, “I wouldn’t let you have him for any price.”

The other dwarves laughed at that. Bofur glanced around, and saw Bombur’s and Nori’s concerned gazes on him. Bifur hadn’t heard, having gone into one of his staring moods. Bofur turned back to the fire, trying not to stare into it.

Thankfully, Bilbo’s reply had been satisfactory for Kili’s joke, and he didn’t press on with it. Bofur forced a smile, in case anyone was looking at him, not wanting them to even guess that he had been bothered by the comment.

The conversation moved on, though Bofur waited a couple of minutes before getting up. He whispered to Bilbo, “Need a moment alone,” and patted Bombur’s shoulder as he went past him to sit behind a boulder a good distance away.

It was only a joke. Kili hadn’t meant anything hurtful by it. Besides, how was the young dwarf supposed to know it might hurt him, since Bofur had not even given any of the others a clue to what happened? He couldn’t blame Kili… but it still hurt, still brought up painful memories.

_“That one… he’ll do real nice. How much for him tonight?” The customer moved in close, and chuckled as he tugged on Bofur’s hair. “I can tell you’ll be worth every coin.”_

_Yevin chuckled. “Indeed he is.”_

_Bofur bowed his head to greet the dwarf. “Bofur, at your service.”_

Bofur shook his head. He couldn’t afford to get lost like that now.

He nearly jumped when a dark shape loomed over him, and sighed in relief that it was his cousin.

“ _Only me_ ,” Bifur assured, sitting next to him. “ _You were gone, they didn’t tell me why_.”

“It’s nothing, really. Just… bad memories.”

“ _Not nothing_.”

Bofur laid his head on the older dwarf’s shoulder. “No… not nothing,” he quietly agreed.

They sat there together for a few minutes more, before going back to the others, not wanting to cause any concern.

********

The next morning, Bofur had started repacking his pony’s load when Fili came up to him.

The younger dwarf glanced around, satisfied that no one was too close, before leaning in and quietly saying, “My brother… he hurt you last night, with his comment.”

“What? No, he… he didn’t,” Bofur denied.

Fili shook his head, and dropped his voice volume more. “I don’t think any of the others noticed, but you were hurt by it. Then you got up-“

“I just needed some cooler air, is all.”

Fili smiled. “I’m not asking you to tell me whatever it is that happened. I just wanted to apologize for him, and let you know I’ll tell him to be more careful about such comments around you in the future.”

Bofur sighed, “You don’t have to.”

“It wouldn’t do to upset you when it’s preventable. Though if you really don’t want me to, I won’t.”

“I suppose… if you mention it to him quietly, not make a big deal out of it.”

“I’m sure I can manage that.”

Bofur glanced around across the group before looking to Fili again. “How did you know?”

“I only suspected, until we went to sleep. You slept differently. Usually you’re holding Bilbo. Last night, he was holding you, like he was… comforting you.”

Bofur let out a little breath. “I’d appreciate you not mentioning this to the others.”

“Of course I won’t. Just a quiet word to Kili.”

It took a few seconds for Bofur to nod. “Thank you.”

“It’s no trouble at all,” Fili replied, patting the pony’s neck before going over to prepare his own for travel.

Bofur slightly smiled after him, before going to help Bilbo pack his pony.


	17. Chapter 2

They had found a deep stream in the late morning, and the Company did not pass up the chance to have a proper bathe.

Bofur raised his eyebrows at the way some of the Company members threw off their clothes and carelessly left them on the bank, knowing that he would’ve been one of them before. He was more modest now, and was the last one into the water, just behind Bilbo. He stayed low enough where the water came up to mid-chest.

He tried to say with the group, tried to join in their laughing and talking, but he ended up slowly drifting further from them, until he felt comfortable enough to rise until the water was waist-height, and he turned his back on them. No one said anything, but he could occasionally feel some eyes on him, perhaps looking for scars, for any physical indication of what had happened to him.

Bofur undid his braids, and submerged his head underwater for a for seconds. He came back up enough to let his hair fan out behind him, and started running his fingers through it and scrubbing at his scalp. Once that felt clean enough, he stood and started lightly scrubbing at his skin with his hands.

Bofur didn’t turn at the sound of someone approaching, now relaxed enough to let whoever it was do so.

“Bofur?” Bombur quietly asked. “Are you alright?”

“Aye,” Bofur softly replied, turning his head and body slightly to look at his brother sideways. “Strange, isn’t it? Me being so physically modest.”

“A bit, yes.”

“Maybe next time I’ll be more myself.”

Without warning, Bombur shot his hands up from under the water, bringing some up and splashing it into his brother’s face. Bofur blinked for a couple seconds, then grinned and splashed him back.

All of Bofur’s trepidations slipped away as the two quickly ended up play-wrestling. It surprised him how easily he fell into it, verbally teasing and laughing as he splashed, pushed, and grabbed at Bombur.

When they started to settle down, Bofur stepped in very close and put his hand on the back of Bombur’s head, leaning forward and bringing their foreheads together. “Thank you.”

Bombur smiled his acknowledgement. They pulled away when they noticed the others starting to get out and dress.

********

Bilbo let out a little groan as Bofur’s large hand went around the back of his neck and the fingers started pressing into the aching muscles. Camp had just been set up, and Bombur was starting to make dinner.

“Quite sore?” Bofur commented.

“I’m not used to riding on a pony all day, and sleeping on the ground, is all,” Bilbo replied.

“Aye, that would take some getting used to.” Bofur leaned in to whisper with a little smile, “I’m feeling it, too. And I don’t think we’re the only ones.”

“I suppose that’s a comforting thought.” Bilbo sighed and let Bofur massage his neck and shoulders for another minute before saying, “I need to walk around, stretch my legs.” He set off, only meaning to go to the ponies.

Bilbo patted his pony’s neck and smiled at her. Then he turned his head to the very quiet sound of voices deeper into the forest. They didn’t sound hostile, and he recognized the tones of Thorin and Balin, though he couldn’t make out what they were saying.

Curiosity got the better of him, and he snuck away from the ponies towards Thorin and Balin. He stopped when he was close enough to clearly hear them, and ducked down behind a tree.

“… make of Bofur?” Thorin asked.

“What do you mean? I have no negative judgment of him, if that is what you ask,” Balin answered.

Thorin snorted. “I do not like the way he and the hobbit practically hang off each other at camp, hardly ever an arm’s length away. I think he has spent too long living with Bilbo, in the Shire. He is too soft for this.”

Bilbo bristled at the words. Bofur, too soft for any hardships that might come?

“You doubt him?” was Balin’s reply.

“Both of them. Though at least I understand the reasoning for Bilbo. Bofur… what is it? What would drive him to live among hobbits? I noticed no scars upon his body earlier today. And you’ll notice he did not come until Bilbo did.”

Bilbo nearly jumped when he realized he was not the only person eavesdropping. Nori glanced over to him, a finger to his lips. Though he also did not look pleased at what their leader was saying.

“You and I both know not all scars leave physical marks. Whatever it was that happened to him, it is none of our business.”

“It is, if he cannot be relied upon.”

Balin sighed. “Until he proves he cannot be, then I won’t doubt him. As I don’t doubt the others who came.”

Bilbo heard Balin walk away, then Thorin following him back to the camp a moment later. Once both were gone, Nori approached him. “The things he was saying…”

“I know,” Nori replied. “Insulting. Though at least Balin does believe in Bofur.”

“I just… I wanted to go up to Thorin and tell him that Bofur is… he’s so strong. He’s not soft and unreliable. Should we tell him? Bofur, I mean. What Thorin thinks of him.”

Nori shook his head. “He knows. He’s noticed the way Thorin looks at him. The same way Thorin looks at you. The way he keeps his distance from you both. He’s trying not to let it bother him.”

Bilbo let out a sigh. “I suppose telling him about this would make it worse.”

“Keep it between us. I wouldn’t want Bifur to get insulted on Bofur’s behalf and confront Thorin, either.”

“Of course.”

“We should get back before they start missing us.”

They arrived back at the camp, and Bilbo took the offered bowl of stew from Bombur, then sat by Bofur, who was getting his hair brushed and braided by Bifur.

“Walk do you some good?” Bofur asked.

Bilbo nodded. “My legs feel a bit better.” He leaned in for a quick kiss before beginning to eat dinner. Despite the conversation he had eavesdropped on, he didn’t care if Thorin was watching or not. If he saw them both as not belonging, so be it. They were here, together.

“Something bothering you?” Bofur quietly inquired.

Bilbo cleared his throat and swallowed another spoonful of stew. “No. Well, nothing but my shoulders. I wouldn’t mind if you started rubbing them again.”

“My pleasure.”

Bilbo quickly grabbed one of the hands that settled on his shoulders and brought it forward to kiss the back of it. “I love you,” he said quietly before letting it go and going back to his meal.

Bofur let out a content little breath. “Aye, just as I love you.”


	18. Chapter 3

“Need a hand?”

Bofur jumped and spun around, managing not to drop the wood he was gathering for the campfire. He was a good way off from the others making camp, and the dwarf who had approached and offered help was the one he had been avoiding.

“Sorry if I startled you,” Dwalin apologized.

“No, it’s… you’re fine. Just… wasn’t expecting anyone to join me.” Bofur swallowed and put on a little smile. He automatically took a step back when the other dwarf took a couple steps forward, and sighed at himself. He really should not be feeling so guarded around Dwalin. It had been long enough with the Company to have this irrational reaction.

“To be honest, I didn’t come over to only help gather wood,” said Dwalin.

Bofur tensed up more, though he tried not to let it show.

“I’ve noticed something, something I can’t quite figure out.”

“Aye?”

“I thought perhaps you were cautious around many of us because we did invade your home, apparently unknowingly uninvited by you or Bilbo. But you seem to get along with almost all of us now… except me and Thorin. Thorin keeps his distance from you already. But I have no desire to do so.”

“I-I mean no disrespect,” Bofur replied.

Dwalin gave a little smile, indicating Bofur was not in serious trouble with him. He continued, “So, I thought maybe it was because I was the first in your house, and I’ve been told multiple times that I easily come off as intimidating.”

“It’s… it’s not that, not exactly.” Bofur closed his eyes for a second. “I mean, I normally am quite friendly, and… it’s nothing personal against you.”

Dwalin raised his eyebrows. “I remind you of someone?” he guessed.

Bofur nodded. Dwalin did remind him of one of the dwarves in Yevin’s training team, with similar enough appearance and gruffness.

“Someone who hurt you?”

Bofur didn’t verbally answer, but his resulting facial expression was enough to confirm it to Dwalin.

“I see,” Dwalin quietly said.

Both of them stood there quietly for a short moment. Then Bofur decided, “I don’t want to treat you any different from the others because of… of that. I mean, I…” He closed his mouth and looked down to the ground.

“I understand, lad,” Dwalin encouraged.

Bofur moved his gaze back up to the other dwarf. He had an idea of what Thorin thought of him. But here was a chance to know what an obviously hardened warrior thought. “What do you make of me?”

“Here I was thinking that I needed to know what you were making of me,” Dwalin replied. “Though I can oblige you.” He took a few steps closer, and Bofur stood still. Dwalin took a moment, carefully considering his answer. “I see someone who has been through something horrifying, something I can’t imagine or even guess at. Something that has left deep scars. I see someone who has survived such an ordeal, who did not give up, who is healing.”

Bofur blinked and considered the words. “Do you… think I’m soft? That I’m weak, compared to everyone else?”

“No.” Dwalin raised a hand, and tentatively placed it on Bofur’s shoulder.

Rather than shrink away, Bofur relaxed at the touch. He never rationally thought that Dwalin would hurt him, but now he somehow knew. “Thank you.”

********

Bofur smiled as Ori rode up beside him one day. The young dwarf looked a little nervous, and leaned over to quietly talk with him.

“I know I’ve already known you, but I would like to ask you a few things, just for recording the journey.”

Bofur nodded, and Ori pulled his journal, quill, and small wooden board from his bag, balancing it all in front of him on the pony. As the scribe flipped through the journal pages, Bofur caught glimpses of drawings and pages filled with writing. He reached over to stop the page from turning at one drawing.

It was a quickly-done, but still good, drawing of him and Bifur, sitting together by the fire, his cousin’s arm around him and holding him close. The facial expressions indicated that they were both staring into the fire, both lost in their own thoughts.

Bofur raised his hand and let Ori turn the page, where a portrait of Bofur took up half the page. This one had his more usual expression, a little friendly smile, more easy-going. There was some writing underneath already, which Bofur quickly read through. A little background information about who he was.

“I’ve been asking everyone why they came along,” Ori prompted.

“An adventure to take back a kingdom, and get some gold in return? Sounds like fun,” Bofur answered.

“Better than Nori’s answer,” Ori chuckled as he wrote. “He said he needed to get out of town for a bit, and this was a good opportunity. Not to mention the share of gold as reward.”

Bofur shook his head in amusement. “What better way to get a better reputation?”

“So what would you do with the gold if we’re successful?”

Bofur furrowed his brow. “Haven’t really thought about that.”

Ori put his quill down. “I suppose we’ve all got awhile to think on that.”

“I don’t have any grandiose plans to build a mansion or something.”

“I never would’ve thought you the type for that,” Ori agreed. “Bofur, would you mind if I… never mind, I wouldn’t go that deep in describing the company members.”

“Would I mind if…?” Bofur prompted.

“If I made mention of what happened to you, before the quest. But like I said, I don’t need to.”

Bofur let out a breath. “What did Nori tell you?”

“Kidnapping, prison, and escape were the main points. Then you decided to lay low in the Shire until you were certain your escape would’ve blown over.”

Bofur watched Ori’s face as he said that, and slightly raised his eyebrow when he finished. The young dwarf didn’t believe the story, but he didn’t ask for the truth. Bofur was grateful he didn’t ask, that he was willing to let the fabricated story be. Bofur showed a little smile and joked, “Nah, don’t put that in. I wouldn’t want to steal the attention.”

Ori chuckled and put his journal away. “Maybe a story for its own volume.”

“Aye, that would be interesting to work on.”

“I’m glad you came,” Ori stated, patting Bofur’s arm. Then he raised the hood on his cloak to shield against the light rain that had started to come down.

“So am I.” Bofur tilted his face up to feel the rain.

********

Bofur awakened in the middle of the night, straight from a nightmare, to find Bilbo’s fingers on his lips to stop him from crying out and waking the others. He’d had nightmares a few times now, but Bilbo was always attuned to him and he hadn’t woken anyone yet with them.

Bofur let out a soft sigh as Bilbo’s fingers were replaced by his gentle mouth, tenderly kissing. Bilbo was quietly easing him from the horrors in his mind, back to him and all that was good in his life. Bofur brought his hand up to caress the hobbit’s cheek as they kissed, staying still and quiet enough to not disturb Bifur and Bombur on either side of them.

When he felt that his body and mind had calmed enough, Bofur whispered, “Let me up. Need to walk around.” Bilbo obliged, and settled back down on his bedroll.

Dori was on the watch shift, and Bofur gave a little smile to him as he walked around the camp. When he got close enough, Dori quietly offered him a cup of tea. “Sure, why not?” Bofur accepted, sitting next to the other dwarf.

Dori poured the rest of the contents of his kettle into another cup and handed it to Bofur. “Should soothe your nerves.”

“What makes you think I need that?”

“Nightmare, wasn’t it? Unless you normally wake up in the middle of the night for hobbit kisses.”

A little snort showed Bofur’s amusement to the latter statement. “No, not usually.” He took a sip of the tea.

Dori turned his head to look at Bofur’s sideways. “You must have them often. He looked like he knew exactly how to wake you. He must have some practice.”

Bofur shivered in spite of the warm tea and fire. “Aye, well… he’s good for me.”

Dori nodded. “I suppose that’s obvious enough. You know, I doubted this whole idea of hiring a hobbit as the burglar.”

“I can’t say I think of burglar when I look at Bilbo, either. It’ll take more than Gandalf proclaiming he’s one to make him so.” Bofur finished his tea.

“If he’s good for you, that means he can’t be all that bad for us,” Dori mused.

“He’s very good for me. What he’s done for me…” Bofur’s voice trailed off, and Dori didn’t prompt him to keep going. He gave the cup back and smiled. “Thanks for the tea. Back to bed for me.”

Dori shook his head with a smile. “Back to your hobbit.”

“That, too.” Bofur went back to his bedroll, and laid down, his arm automatically draping over Bilbo’s middle and snuggling him close.

“You alright?” Bilbo sleepily whispered.

“Aye.” At Bifur’s soft grumbling, Bofur chuckled and said, “Back to sleep.” He kissed Bilbo’s ear and closed his eyes. “Love you…”


	19. Chapter 4

After nearly getting roasted and eaten by trolls, and caught by wargs and orcs, Rivendell was a welcome sight to Bofur. A place to rest, replenish supplies, think on how to proceed now that they knew they were being hunted.

Bofur smiled at the enchanted expression on Bilbo’s face, and let out a little sigh, also feeling the sense of peace washing over him as they looked down upon the city nestled within the valley.

That peace was only broken for a minute when Elrond and his warriors charged and surrounded them at the entrance, but then they were invited to a meal, which became a little more merry when he led the dwarves in a song. Though Bofur did wish a few of the company members hadn’t been so eager to throw food around.

Then the company was shown where they could sleep for as long as they were here, and given reign to explore, as long as they did not cause much disruption.

Once their guide left them in their sleeping room, Ori expressed that he wanted to visit the library. Now that the suggestion had been made, Bofur thought of his own reason to accompany the young dwarf. There was something he wanted to find out, and what better place than in an elven city. It wasn’t a question he could just go and ask someone. The subject was more than a little rude for polite company. It could even be completely taboo to speak of such things, and the last thing Bofur wanted to do was upset their hosts.

“I’ll go with Ori,” Bofur decided.

“You in a library? An elvish one, no less?” Nori teased.

“Nothing wrong with broadening my mind, is there?” Bofur replied with a little grin. “Bilbo, are you coming with us?”

Bilbo stretched his arms over his head after spreading out his bedroll. “Still need to rest my feet for a bit. I’ll join you two a little later.”  

After being pointed in the right direction, and reminded to be respectful of the books and documents, Ori and Bofur entered the large library. Ori went to leisurely browse the shelves, while Bofur started to look for a particular section.

It took him a few minutes to find the medical journals. He skipped over anything that was written in elvish, since it would be no good to him. Anything written in Common he took from the shelf and brought to a table to look through. Bofur flicked through the book pages, hoping he could find what he was searching for. He glanced up and smiled at Ori when the other sat on the other side of the large table, a few books in his arms.

“Medical journal?” Ori asked at the glimpse of bodily drawings in the book Bofur was going through.

“Just curious about something I heard in… while in prison,” Bofur explained.

Ori’s pace through his books was more relaxed than Bofur’s, not looking for anything in particular and curious about whatever the elves wrote.

It took a couple of journals for Bofur to find what he was looking for, and he furrowed his brow at the confirmation of what he had been told about elves. But before he believed it, he wanted to make certain it was true, and continued going through the journals.

When he found the second mention of it, Bofur let out a long breath, unsure of how he felt. He quietly closed the books and put them away, then returned to Ori. He let out a little snort of affection when he saw what the young scribe was reading. “You can read elvish?”

Ori looked up, a sheepish sort of smile on his face. “What? Oh no, I can’t. I really would love to learn, though. I know we won’t stay long enough to even ask if I would be allowed, but maybe someday. It’s quite beautiful to look at.”

“Aye, it is. Maybe someday.”

“Did you find your answers?”

Bofur nodded. “You’ll be alright here on your own?”

“Yes. Are you going back to the others?”

“Nah, not yet. I’m up for some walking around.” Bofur patted Ori’s shoulder. “See you later.”

Once outside the library, Bofur found a lamp to light his pipe with, and made for the nearest garden. He found a bench, but didn’t sit on it, instead sitting on the grass with his back against the stone.

He closed his eyes and smoked, his mood turned somber as he thought on what he had read.

It couldn’t have been long before Bofur was pulled from dark thoughts by soft footsteps and a voice calling his name. Bofur didn’t open his eyes, but did pat the ground beside him as invitation.

“I went to find you at the library, but only Ori was there,” Bilbo said, sitting beside the dwarf. “He said you were looking for something specific in medical journals?”

Bofur opened his eyes and handed his pipe to the hobbit, offering him the rest of the contents. He waited until Bilbo had taken a puff and breathed it out before saying, “Yevin told me something, something I would sometimes think about.”

Bilbo lowered the pipe from his mouth and turned to look to Bofur, prompting him to continue.

“One day… still in my training phase, I asked why there weren’t any elves. I mean, they live forever, right? And I’ve heard many men comment on their beauty. Yevin said that, in addition to the difficulty of capturing one, it wouldn’t be worth it. They wouldn’t last long at all.”

Bilbo furrowed his brow. “What do you mean?”

“The elves… they call it ‘fading’ in their books. They… slowly die.”

“They die from being…?”

Bofur nodded. “All it takes is one time for that to start. They don’t- they can’t last long.” He let out a long exhale and folded his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. “So, I would sometimes think about it.”

Bilbo put his arm over Bofur’s shoulders and pulled him close, knowing to not directly ask, instead waiting for Bofur to be ready to talk. He placed the pipe on the bench behind him, all his attention on the one he loved.

Bofur took off his hat, and started running his fingers through the fur at the front to give his hands something to do. He swallowed, and closed his eyes for a moment. “I would think about… what it would be like, to fade. It’s an… attractive idea, in such a situation. I don’t know if I really wanted to actually die, but…”

“I understand,” Bilbo softly replied, his hand on Bofur’s shoulder moving up to stroke through the dark hair.

“To know that no matter what would happen, it wouldn’t be for long, that it would all end soon… All I wanted was for it to end, for all the pain to end. Fading would make that happen.” Bofur bit back a hitched breath, and turned to the hobbit, his eyes shining with welling tears. “Was it wrong of me to think about it? To want it?”

Oh, Bofur…” Bilbo breathed, tilting his forehead against the dwarf’s temple. “No, it wasn’t wrong. You were... were trapped there, abused, losing so much… It wasn’t wrong to want it to end, however that might happen.”

Bofur gave a watery smile at Bilbo’s answer. Then he wiped his eyes, breath coming out in a shudder, as he composed himself more. “I wouldn’t want to fade now. I mean, thinking about it now, now that I know it’s true, now that I’ve been saved from that life.” He kissed Bilbo’s cheek. “It’s been hard, recovering. I still am, and I know there’s no way for me to completely forget it all happened. There will always be some damage. But I got that chance.” One of his hands dropped to the grass, fingers lightly clutching at it. “Maybe it’s because I was lucky to have been rescued, but it’s… it’s kind of sad that the elves have no chance like that. Even if they do get away, it wouldn’t matter. They can’t recover or even start to heal. They’re lost forever.”

Bilbo put two fingers under Bofur’s chin to turn his head so that their eyes met. “But you’re not.”

“Aye… I’m not.” Bofur touched their foreheads together and closed his eyes, simply relishing in the other’s presence.

After a few minutes, Bofur pulled away and put his hat on, a little smile lighting up his face. “Now, enough of such morbid thoughts.”

Bilbo let out a little chuckle of relief that Bofur would be alright. It turned into a grin as the dwarf leaned in to claim his mouth in a more than chaste kiss. “Bofur!” he squeaked as large hands gripped at his sides. It was obvious where this was going. Though he wasn’t at all against that, the prospect of being caught by elves wasn’t appealing. “Not here.”

Bofur glanced around. “I don’t see anyone around. Unless elves can become invisible. But I didn’t see any mention of that in what I read.” He grinned at the group of hedges, which were tall enough to block any direct view. He stood, pulling Bilbo up with him. He grabbed the smoldering pipe from the bench, snuffed it, and slid it back into his jacket pocket. He took Bilbo’s hand and led him through the path among the hedges, finding a nice spot deep enough within.

“This is a pretty place,” Bofur commented on the city as they sat in the grass.

“I expect I’ll do some exploring tomorrow,” Bilbo replied, noting the darkening sky.

Despite Bofur’s excitement, he didn’t rush into kissing and touching Bilbo, wanting this to be special. Bilbo nonverbally agreed with the sentiment. Who knew when they would be able to do this again, in such a calming and beautiful place?

They didn’t shed their clothes, only opening shirts and pushing trousers down to knees. They ended up with Bilbo straddling Bofur’s waist, with the dwarf sitting up and kissing and sucking the hobbit’s neck. Bilbo’s breathing hitched when he sat back, letting Bofur slide inside.

Their breathy moans of bliss mingled with the sounds of birds in the nearby hedges and trees. The grass was soft and cool beneath them. The light breeze joined their roaming fingers in tousling their hair. The subtle colours of the sunset sky every time they looked up…

When they finished, Bofur laid back, propped up on his elbows, staring up at his love. Bilbo followed him down, nuzzling his nose against Bofur’s cheek. They stayed like that for a little while, softly kissing and whispering.

Eventually, they had to return to the others, and with a little sigh, broke apart. They made sure they were presentable before leaving the hedges. Still, they took another moment to stand together, the sky now dark around them, for one more long sweet kiss before heading back.

“Oh, I know that look,” Nori laughed as Bofur and Bilbo returned to the company’s sleeping area, where most of them still were. “Come on, Dwalin, pay up.”

“Pay up?” Bilbo asked. Bofur chuckled and shook his head.

Dwalin grumbled and handed some coins to Nori. Nori grinned and answered, “I knew you two couldn’t resist such a romantic place.”

“Oh…” Bilbo blushed and hid behind Bofur.

“Do you get extra points for guessing where?” Bofur inquired.

“I could get some of my coin back if he was wrong about that,” Dwalin replied.

“Too bad, not telling,” Bofur said good-naturedly with a little kick to Nori’s leg as he passed by.

“Spoilsport,” Nori muttered.

“We’ve got some meat on if you want any,” Bombur invited from the small campfire.

“Thanks,” Bofur said as he and Bilbo sat with his cousin. From his pocket, he pulled out some small flowers he had picked on the way from the garden. “Here, Bifur. No idea what they’re called, but I’m sure you could ask an elf if you go to any of the gardens.”

Bifur took them with an appreciative grunt, inspecting them before picking off petals to eat. He offered some to Bilbo, who refused, commenting that he would stick to eating flowers in tea form.

Bofur took the offered sausages from his brother and started eating. He looked out over the group with a smile. No, now that he had this, he would never want to fade.


	20. Chapter 5

Going up the path of the Misty Mountains in the torrential wind and rain was treacherous enough, but then there had also been the stone giants to contend with. Bofur thought their lives were over as they headed straight for an unforgiving cliff face…

It took Bofur a few seconds of laying on the rocks to realize that he was not dead. But that relief quickly went to panic when he didn’t see Bilbo anywhere near him. “Where’s Bilbo?” he cried out.

A terrified shout reached his ear over sound of the wind, drawing his attention to fingertips grasping over the ledge. He and Ori sprung forward, grasping for Bilbo’s hands as the hobbit slipped down further. Bofur was probably just as scared as Bilbo looked, not knowing what he would do if he lost Bilbo here.

Then Thorin came to the rescue, climbing down and pushing Bilbo up into their waiting arms. Bofur and Bilbo ended up falling onto their sides, breathing heavily. The discomfort of the rock poking hard into his side didn’t matter at all. All that did matter was Bilbo being safe in his arms.

“He’s been lost, ever since he left home,” Thorin bitterly said.

All Bofur could do was kiss Bilbo’s cheek at their leader’s tirade against Bilbo’s character. It angered him, but now wasn’t the time to stand up and confront Thorin about it. Bilbo was safe, Thorin could be dealt with later.

Bofur pulled the hobbit up after him when it was decided the cave was safe to go in. Once inside, glad to be out of the rain and wind and off the treacherous ledge, he gently pushed Bilbo down onto a flat stone seat to look him over for any injuries.

“I’m alright,” Bilbo said as he shivered. “Shaken up, is all.”

Bofur kissed the other’s forehead and replied, “Too bad I’m just as wet and cold as you and can’t at least get you warmer.”

“I’ll be alright.”

“Bofur,” Thorin called from nearby.

Bofur straightened and turned, and couldn’t help the glare when their leader told him to take the first watch. It somehow felt like a punishment. But he still didn’t argue it.

“I can stay up with you,” Bilbo quietly suggested once Thorin had moved away.

Bofur shook his head, though he did appreciate the offer. “You should rest. Go on with Bifur and Bombur, they’re heading to the back. You should be safest there with them.”

“You’re certain?”

“Aye.” Bofur gave a kiss to the hobbit’s lips. “I’ll be fine, and be joining you soon enough.”

It took Bilbo another moment to let go of the front of Bofur’s jacket and go over to settle near Bifur and Bombur. Bofur sat where Bilbo had been, and watched as the Company found spots to roll out their blankets and sleep.

Bofur leaned back against the wall and tried to get the image of Bilbo’s frightened face as he hung from the cliff edge from his mind. He didn’t want to go into what-if’s and entertain the possibility of him dying like that, falling into empty air, with no one to catch him but the ground far below…

No, Bilbo was safe, here in the cave with him. No need to think of what could have happened. They were both alive, along with the rest of the Company. They were alive, and not any worse for the wear. And when it was time for the next person’s watch, he would be asleep with Bilbo, as safe as they could be in this cave.

It wasn’t far into his shift, when nearly all the others were asleep, minus Bifur who was occupied with a toy, when he heard a soft whisper of his name and approaching footsteps.

Bofur shot up to his feet when Bilbo came into view, walking stick in hand and with his full backpack on his back. “What’re you doing?” he asked.

“I… I can’t do this,” Bilbo answered. “I’m going back to Rivendell.”

“No, don’t-“

“Thorin said I never should’ve come. He was right.” Bilbo shook his head with a sigh. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I should never have run out my door.”

Bofur reached out to grab Bilbo’s sleeve. “You’re homesick, I understand.”

Bilbo looked down between them. “Homesick… I suppose you would understand that.”

“Not only for my home in Ered Luin,” Bofur responded, tilting the hobbit’s face back up with a finger under his chin. “For our home in the Shire, as well.”

Bilbo couldn’t help the little smile at those words. Though his face fell when he said, “Whatever it is, Thorin is still right. I’m not fit for this. I’m not even a dwarf.”

“I don’t think that matters any. You’re holding up alright so far.”

Bilbo shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

Bofur stepped closer, grasping the hobbit’s forearms. “Don’t leave?”

“It wouldn’t be fair to ask you to come back with me. You… you should stay.”

Bofur lowered his head to look directly into the other’s eyes. “Do you really think I would let you go back alone? Especially now that we know what’s chasing us?”

Bilbo opened his mouth for a second, then glanced out of the cave entrance. “I suppose you wouldn’t. Even though… your family and friends are here.”

Bofur turned Bilbo’s face back to him. “I was willing to let them go on without me once.”

“I couldn’t ask-“

“You’re not asking. You convinced me that I was ready for this. What can I do to convince you of the same?”

“I don’t know… Bofur, I can’t… I…” Bilbo gave up with a huff of frustration.

Bofur’s hands moved up to Bilbo’s shoulders. “Thorin… he doesn’t understand, doesn’t see your strength, your courage… But I’m not the only one here who sees your worth.”

“Bofur…” Bilbo breathed before moving in close for an embrace. “I love you,” he said into the dwarf’s chest.

Bofur pulled away just enough to bend his head and press their foreheads together. They both closed their eyes, their breaths mingling in the cool air. “You do belong on this journey,” Bofur assured, voice at a bare-whisper. “You told me that I had more strength in me than I thought I did. I believe the same is true for you, regarding this.”

“That was different,” Bilbo sighed.

“Maybe so. But I still believe in you.”

Bilbo broke away, a small smile on his face and seemingly reassured, to look out of the cave entrance again.

A blue glow from Bilbo’s belt caught Bofur’s attention. “What’s that?” he asked, seeing it was coming from the sword.

Bilbo looked down, pulled the sword a little out of the sheath. His gaze raised to meet Bofur’s, fear at what it could mean dancing across both their features.

There were a few tense seconds of silence. It was broken by Thorin shouting for everyone to wake up.

Then they were falling…


	21. Chapter 6

Goblins, wargs, orcs, fire, giant eagles… Bofur had no idea how they managed to all escape mostly unscathed from all of that within a short period of time. There had been a scare when he noticed that Bilbo had gone missing when they had been brought before the goblin king, but somehow he had found them after they had made their escape out of the caverns and tunnels. He couldn’t help but to run to Bilbo and hug him tightly before letting him explain why he had come to continue on with them.

Then his hobbit had found the courage to try to protect Thorin from Azog, though Bofur wasn’t in the best position to see how that went. All he could do was breathe a sigh of relief from his position on an eagle at seeing Bilbo on the back of another one.

Bofur had been ready to confront Thorin on the carrock, once their leader had started to go off on Bilbo again. But to his surprise, Thorin apologized and embraced him. Then again, if anything would have changed Thorin’s mind about Bilbo, it should be the hobbit standing between him and Azog. Whatever Thorin might still think of him, at least Bilbo had risen in his eyes.

And now they had just locked a giant bear out of a house, one obviously made for someone much larger than them. Gandalf’s words about the bear and the house were not at all encouraging, but the wizard assured them they would be safe.

Bofur patted Bombur’s shoulder at his brother’s quiet voiced concern. Then Bifur suddenly grabbed their wrists and yanked them away from the door. He did the same with Bilbo, and led them over to a bale of hay.

“I don’t think he’s going to break down the door,” Bofur said when his cousin let them go. “Especially if this is his own house.”

“ _Almost lost you all in goblin caves, then with wargs. Not taking a chance with bear_ ,” Bifur replied in Khuzdul. “ _Now rest_.”

“Well, I certainly won’t object to that,” Bofur replied, sitting on the ground and leaning back against the hay. Bombur and Bilbo joined him, but Bifur stayed standing and looking around. “Hey, I know you haven’t slept for a good while longer than the rest of us. You rest, too.”

Bifur responded with a dismissive grunt, though he did sit on a nearby hay bale. Bofur muttered affectionately, “Stubborn badger.”

Bilbo moved to sit on the bale behind Bofur, with the dwarf between his legs. Bofur melted back and grabbed the other’s hand. Bilbo smiled down at him and slid his free hand up the back of Bofur’s head and under the hat, lightly massaging.

Bofur sighed and turned his body to rest his head on the hobbit’s thigh. “I was so afraid I’d lost you, when we fell and were captured by the goblins,” he said quietly.

“I know. I was just as afraid. But we all made it through all of that.”

“Aye… that we did.” Bofur chuckled at the sound of Bombur beginning to snore beside them.

They sat in companionable quiet, like everyone else was doing around them. Then Bifur suddenly got up and onto the hay bale, kneeling behind Bilbo. They didn’t pay him any mind, until Bilbo let out a little closed-mouthed squeak at thick fingers grabbing at his hair.

Bofur lifted his head and turned to see what was going on. “Bifur, what are you doing?”

Bifur kept his hand in Bilbo’s hair, and pulled a comb from the inside of his jacket. “ _Fixing his hair_ ,” he answered, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“His hair doesn’t need fixing.”

Bifur made a shushing sound. Bofur chuckled and told Bilbo, “Let him do what he wants.”

“Right, then,” Bilbo replied. After a few tougher strokes of the comb, Bifur lightened his touch. Bilbo didn’t question the dwarf’s intentions, and the attention felt quite nice. Though he did have to chuckle a bit.

“What’s so funny?” Bofur asked.

“After everything we’ve been through these past couple of days, and the first thing he does his comb my hair.”

Bofur smiled. “He’s doing it to calm himself as well as for your sake.”

“ _Did you ever put a braid in his hair?_ ” Bifur asked.

“No. Hobbits don’t really do that.”

Bifur started separating locks of the blonde hair. “ _It’s long enough_.”

“Hobbits don’t really do what?” Bilbo inquired.

“Braiding, though not that mine is anything special. You don’t mind, do you?” replied Bofur. At the approving sound from Bilbo, he said to his cousin, “Keep it simple. Just one.”

“ _Something you should be doing_ ,” Bifur insisted.

“Aye, maybe. But you’re doing it now.”

“ _He is part of our family now, is he not?_ ”

Bofur sat up at the statement. While his cousin and brother had taken well to Bilbo, hearing Bifur say that brought a big smile to his face.

“Bofur?” Bilbo asked, concerned at the sudden change in expression.

Bofur kept his eyes on Bifur, wanting him to confirm what he had said. At Bifur’s nod, Bofur said to Bilbo, “I’ll tell you when he’s done.”

When Bifur tapped his shoulder and scooted away, Bilbo tenderly felt the single thin braid that started at the front of his hairline and went back and down behind his ear, ending in a makeshift tie of loose thread from Bifur’s shirt. It felt almost delicate, like such thick fingers should not have been able to do it, but then Bilbo remembered the carving and toymaking work he had seen of the dwarf’s.

“Looks quite nice on you,” Bofur complimented.

“So, what did he say?” Bilbo asked quietly.

“That you’re part of the family.”

“He… he truly thinks so?”

“Aye, he does. I think he did so sooner than this, but I suppose this was when he decided to say so.”

Bilbo let out a long happy breath. “Well, I must say that yours is a family worth being considered part of.”

Bofur smiled and kissed the other’s nose.

 

Bofur looked down at the sleeping Hobbit in his arms, a finger tracing over the small braid on the side of his head. Night had fallen, and after a quick meal of whatever food they could get to, everyone had settled down for sleep.

“You do that?” Bombur whispered.

“No.” Bofur chuckled. “Bifur did.”

“Ah, I was wondering if he would.” Bombur smiled, “Suits him, doesn’t it?”

“Aye, that it does.” Bofur let out a yawn, and wished his brother goodnight, then laid down behind Bilbo, his arm over the other’s middle. He placed a gentle kiss on the shell of Bilbo’s ear, and closed his eyes.

********

“I’ll get it myself,” Beorn growled, heading for the back door of the house. “The last thing I need is a bunch of dwarves trampling around my garden.” He stopped and turned back to them. “You, Halfling. Are you good with gardens?”

“Y-yes… though mine at home isn’t anything special. I mean-“ Bilbo stammered.

“Good enough. Come help. And you,” Beorn pointed to Bofur. “You as well.”

“Me? But I-“ Bofur stopped his protest at the glare from the huge man. Really, he did probably have more experience in a garden than any of the other dwarves. And the sooner they gathered the food supplies Beorn was willing to give them, the sooner they could be on their way.

Beorn sent Bilbo off to one side of the large fruit and vegetable garden with a couple of travel sacks and instruction on what to take. Bofur made to follow, but Beorn stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. He said, “You stay with me over here.”

Bofur swallowed, staring at the hand, the one with the manacle and bit of chain attached to the wrist. He tried not to tremble, though he was failing at that. He couldn’t help but imagine what things Beorn could do to him, how much he could easily hurt him. “Right, I’ll stay with you then.”

Beorn removed his hand. “You are afraid?”

“If you don’t mind me saying, you are a rather large and intimidating individual.”

Beorn let out an amused snort, then turned serious again. “I did not mean of me specifically.” He pointed to a row of carrots. “We’ll start with these.”

After they knelt and started pulling up the plants to put into bags, Beorn quietly stated, “You took particular interest in this.” He held up his manacled wrist. “The Halfling did as well, but you more so.”

“I wasn’t staring at that in particular,” Bofur said quickly.

Beorn shook his head. “You are a kindred spirit, in terms of past situation.”

“I-I have no idea what you’re talking about.” To say the statement unnerved Bofur was to say the least.

“I do not ask of detail, only confirmation.”

Bofur was quiet for a long moment. Tell this skinchanger the secret that he kept so closely guarded from most of the others of the Company? But there was a reason his eyes had stayed on Beorn’s wrist as he talked with them over breakfast. “Yes,” he admitted.

“I see. The others, they do not know?”

Bofur shook his head. “They don’t need to.” He took a breath. “How did you know? All our eyes were on you.” At the sidelong glance, he added, “You don’t have to answer that.”

Beorn did answer with, “I wear my former chains outwardly. You don’t, but there are some in your mind. I also still have chains there.”

Bofur shook his head. “I can’t believe you can see that, when we haven’t said a word to each other until now. Though I suppose someone with such experience in this…”

They moved to another row of vegetables. Bofur muttered, “I can’t imagine being enslaved to Azog the Defiler. I mean…”

Beorn raised an eyebrow at him.

“Men and Dwarves,” Bofur stated. He had no idea why he was telling the skinchanger more than he had asked for. “That’s who… who hurt me.”

Beorn simply nodded gravely once.

“But you... you lost your family to the orcs. If that had… I couldn’t bear the thought of it, especially with… with how it would’ve happened.” Bofur swallowed, and pulled the tomato off the stem more forcefully than needed, and his thumb went through its skin. “How can you wear that, stand to be reminded every time you see your wrist? All I want to do is forget.”

“We deal with these things differently. Neither is wrong. What matters is that you survived what they did to you, that you still have strength to live and heal.”

Bofur sighed and shook his head. “That strength didn’t come from me.” He looked across the garden to Bilbo.

“Ah,” Beorn understood. “Though I do not think it matters where it comes from. As long as it is there. It is good that you have someone to help you find it.”

“If he hadn’t found me, I’d still be… well…” Bofur stilled as Beorn’s huge hand came down on top of his, and closed around it.

Beorn’s brown eyes gazed into Bofur’s green ones. “Those who enslaved and hurt us… they would want nothing more than to know they broke our spirit, even after we get away. By surviving and healing and living, we defeat them. Even though they may not have answered for our suffering, we defeat them every day.”

Bofur nodded. Then he glanced away and chuckled, “I thought you didn’t like dwarves, and here you are having a heart-to-heart with one.”

“I never said your kind does not have their merits,” Beorn replied with a small and warm smile.

Bofur let out a breath. He noticed Bilbo coming over with full sacks. “Thank you.”

Beorn let go of Bofur’s hand as Bilbo came up and said, “I hope I didn’t take too much?”

“There are fifteen of you,” Beorn responded. “And you left what you took from intact. We are nearly done here.”

After they finished gathering the food, Beorn led them back inside, where he then began gathering bread and other foodstuffs.

“I noticed you two talking,” Bilbo whispered.

“Words of assurance,” Bofur answered. At Bilbo’s raised brow, he nodded, “I didn’t think him the type either.” They both looked up at Thorin telling them to get ready to leave. Bofur kissed the hobbit’s temple and went to help Oin with a pack.


	22. Chapter 7

_Bofur could not believe this as he struggled to wriggle his wrists and ankles from the thick and rough rope. They had been ambushed in the middle of the night by a large group of men and dwarves, some he recognized. Though one in particular brought home the horror._

_“Well now, Bofur, you certainly have some nice friends,” Yevin chuckled, slowly striding past the line of captured and tied up dwarves and hobbit. “Including a few that would be very popular.” His eyes lingered over Fili, Kili, and Ori. He stopped at Thorin. “You’ll especially be quite the difficult one, I can see. But we’ll see what Abner says. If you are the Thorin Oakenshield-”_

_“Please, let them all go!” Bofur cried out. “I’ll go back with you willingly!”_

_Yevin strode back over to Bofur, took his bound hands, and lifted him to his feet. “Why would I do that? I’ve got you and thirteen others. They might not all be useful, but coming back with one former slave instead of fourteen potential ones? I know you’re not stupid.”_

_“Slaves?” Thorin asked. “If you think we’re going to be sold into that-“_

_“That’s precisely what I think, and what is going to happen.” Yevin glanced over the group. “He didn’t tell you,” he realized. He let out a laugh. “I suppose, in a way, this is his fault.”_

_“Don’t you blame him for your monstrous ways!” Bilbo protested, trying to get up._

_Yevin let Bofur go and stalked over to Bilbo. “You would do well to not attract attention to yourself. You’re certainly something different.”_

_Bilbo flinched away at the large hand from another man the caressed his face from behind._

_“Don’t touch him,” Bofur hissed._

_“Is this really necessary?” Balin asked. “We’ll pay you everything we have. There’s no need to enslave us for profit.”_

_“A diplomat,” Yevin nodded. “This isn’t a negotiation. I’m sure Bofur can tell you that you would make us a lot more money than you can give us now.” He ordered his group, “Make camp here for the night. We’ll head back in the morning.”_

_Bofur pounced towards Yevin in desperation, ending up with a mouthful of dirt as he landed face-first in it. He spat it out and begged, “Please… please don’t do this. Let them go.” He truly was willing to go back to that place with Yevin, endure everything again, lose everything again. At this moment, he did not care what would become of him, as long as the others would be released, would not go through it all with him. He could not bear the thought of this happening that way._

_Yevin knelt and took Bofur’s face in his hand. “I’d almost forgotten how nice you sound when you beg.” Then he rose and instructed, “I don’t want a single one to escape. Make certain that does not happen.”_

_All Bofur could do was stare after the man, tears streaming down his face. “Please… don’t do this… don’t…”_

 

_“Quite the haul,” Abner complimented, looking over the captured Company. He stopped in front of Bofur and took his chin in his hand. “Hello again.” He leaned in for a rough kiss, which Bofur immediately tried to push away from. Abner only laughed, saying, “I see you’ve forgotten your training. Such a shame we’ll have to retrain you.”_

_The Company surged forward in an attempt to fight back. Without use of their hands and limited use of their legs, they were quickly overpowered by the large group of trainers who had come to see them arrive._

_Abner grinned at them as they were beaten back into line. “Find rooms for them. Double or triple them up if you need to,” he commanded. “Except Bofur and… that one.” His finger raised, pointing to Ori._

_Dori, Nori, and the rest of them protested, trying to circle around Ori and Bofur to protect them. It didn’t take the trainers very long to separate them from the group. Bofur and Ori were dragged away by Yevin and a couple others, while the others were shoved and dragged in the direction of the slave rooms._

_Bofur knew where they were being taken, knew what was going to happen next, and all he could do was mutter his apology to Ori. Abner would choose the youngest one of their party to start off with, though he didn’t understand why he was being brought as well._

_Bofur didn’t know what to tell the young dwarf, It had been made clear to the Company what this was all about. But now they were trapped here, helpless. What could he possibly say to any of them now?_

_Bofur and Ori were pushed into Abner’s lavish bedchamber. Ori hesitantly stood on the small platform in the center. Bofur was pulled away from him and tied to a chair. Then he understood. He was going to be forced to watch this happen._

_“Please don’t do this to him!” Bofur cried out when Abner strode in._

_Abner ignored him, and went straight for Ori, ordering him to strip. Ori glanced to Bofur, who could only lower his gaze to the floor, a wave of shame and nausea washing through him. He heard the rustle of clothes as Ori willingly stripped._

_“Not as rebellious as Bofur was,” Abner commented. “No, don’t look to him. He can’t help you.”_

_“Please, sir. Th-there’s no… I’m not-“ Ori stammered, and broke off in a yelp._

_Bofur’s head shot up, and he saw Abner’s arms tightly around Ori, their mouths together in a crushing kiss. He tried to lunge forward to break it up, and nearly ended up flipping the chair. Yevin grabbed the back of it in time and yanked him back to stability._

_“You want to take his place so badly?” Yevin whispered as Abner continued molesting Ori._

_Bofur glared to the man, not emotionally able to verbally answer. The tears trickling down his face would be enough. His gaze snapped back to Ori at the young dwarf’s next cry. Two guards had him pinned down on the bed, at the side that made it easy for Bofur to see the frightened face. Abner started undressing. “No! Stop this!” Bofur once again tried to break free of the rope and chair. But all he could do was sit there and watch, see every emotion in Ori’s anguished face, hear it with his every breath. Their eyes met, and Bofur couldn’t look away, couldn’t abandon Ori like that._

_It was not long before Bofur’s protests mixed with Ori’s screams of pain and cries for his brothers._

 

“It’s alright, come back…” soothed a soft voice, which was accompanied by fingers over his lips.

Bofur found no comfort in Bilbo’s touch, not now in the middle of the first night in Mirkwood. Not after such a nightmare. He stared into the hobbit’s eyes for a few seconds, his own already wet with tears. Then he quickly pushed him away and stood.

“Bofur?” Bilbo asked in hushed tones as Bofur stepped around the sleeping Company. Thorin, who was on watch, glanced over to them before deciding it wasn’t anything alarming and not waking the others. Bilbo got up and followed Bofur.

Bofur stopped far enough away where he thought he was out of earshot. He had enough presence of mind to not go off the path. He rested his head on his forearm against a tree. His body shook with sobs he tried to stifle.

“Bofur?” came the soft concerned voice, followed by a hand on his arm.

Bofur lifted his head, not wiping the free-flowing tears away.

“This one was worse than any other?”

Bofur nodded, and pushed away from the tree to wrap his arms around himself.

Bilbo stepped in close, placing his hands on the dwarf’s elbows. “It wasn’t only you and me?”

Bofur shook his head. He wiped one side of his face, though it was quickly wet again. He bit his lip as Bifur joined them. “Yevin… he caught us all, on the road. And- and he took us all… back to that… place. I-I couldn’t do anything to stop it. I tried, I offered my-myself. But he still…” Bofur’s eyes fluttered closed at his cousin’s firm hand on his shoulder.

“ _Don’t get lost_ ,” Bifur warned.

Bofur shivered. “They took me and… and Ori. I-I tried, but couldn’t… couldn’t stop them from-“ He flinched at the way his voice loudly cracked when he said, “From raping Ori.” He tightened his arms around himself.

Bilbo slipped his fingers between Bofur’s. “That won’t happen. He can’t possibly-“

“I know. Silly, isn’t it? All the dangers we’ve been through so far on this journey, and my nightmares are still about him.”

“It’s not silly,” Bilbo assured. “Not at all.”

“ _It’s this place_ ,” Bifur determined, waving a hand at the trees around them. “ _I feel more darkness in my head. You too_.”

“Aye…” Bofur let out a shuddered breath as he looked up into the branches.

“ _Don’t get lost_ ,” the older dwarf warned again.

“Don’t know if I can promise that here,” Bofur replied with another shiver. “But I don’t want you getting lost either.”

Bifur’s hand went around the back of Bofur’s neck and pulled him in to rest their foreheads together. Bofur closed his eyes, needing the quiet comfort from Bilbo and Bifur.

“Right,” Bofur said after a few minutes. “Let’s see if I can’t get back to sleep.”

********

As they were packing their supplies the next morning, Thorin came up to Bofur. In a very low tone, he said, “I apologize for doubting you.” Then he walked away without waiting for a response.

Bofur was too shocked to reply, only able to stare after their leader. “He knows,” he muttered when Bilbo stood beside him.

“Thorin?” Bilbo asked, following Bofur’s line of sight. “How?”

“Must’ve overheard us last night,” Bofur replied, not sure how to feel about Thorin knowing this. “He apologized for his attitude of me.”

“That’s good, right? His apology.”

“Aye, I suppose so. I still don’t like him knowing, but…”

“I don’t think he’ll hurt you,” Bilbo assured with a kiss to Bofur’s cheek.

Bofur didn’t think Thorin would, either. Though he wouldn’t be eased by that thought.

********

Bofur did get lost in his mind on the way through Mirkwood, He longed for the breaks in replaying his nightmarish memories when his mind would fog over. He dreaded sleep, but found little comfort in being awake. Bilbo and Bombur could only do so much for him and Bifur.

He didn’t know how much longer he could take being in this dark and twisted forest.


	23. Chapter 8

If it hadn’t been for Bilbo going missing after they broke free of the spider webs, Bofur wouldn’t have minded being captured by the Mirkwood elves as much as everyone else did. While he didn’t like being thrown in a dungeon cell, at least they were free of the oppressive air and dark thoughts brought about by the cursed forest. Bofur also wasn’t worried about the elves using them for certain things, knowing it wasn’t in their nature, no matter how dangerous this group of them was compared to Elrond’s in Rivendell. Bofur was far more worried about Bilbo’s well-being than his own. He was safe and locked up. Bilbo could still be outside with the spiders and other nasty creatures.

Then the hobbit had come to their rescue with the dungeon keys in hand and a plan in mind. Escaping the elves and orcs was an ordeal, and they washed up on the riverbank some time later, shivering wet and with no weapons or supplies.

The bargeman coming across them a short time later was a blessing, and Bofur certainly had no complaints about him taking them to Laketown with the promise of weapons and supplies.

Once in too-big but dry clothes, Bofur pulled Bilbo aside from the others. He took Bilbo’s cold hands between his and brought them up to his mouth. Bilbo waited a moment before asking, “You’re alright, here?” He didn’t need to elaborate for Bofur to know what he meant.

The dwarf nodded. Then he let out a long breath. “I was so worried when the elves didn’t catch you with us.”

“So was I, but it looks to have worked out for the better.”

Bofur glanced around to the other Company members, a little smile on his face. “Aye, I suppose it did.”

********

Any safety Bofur felt in Bard’s presence and in the man’s house rapidly left him when they were caught by the Laketown guards in the armoury. Two seized him by the arms and started half-dragging him down the stairs. All he could think of was the way he had been manhandled like this before, stolen away from his family and his life.

Bofur shouted out and struggled to get out of their iron grasps. He got a solid kick to one’s leg and nearly got thrown the rest of the way down the winding stairs. Once outside, he grabbed and bit a hand, and made a break for it. He tripped on something, and his foot slipped off the wooden floor and into the water. A large hand caught the braid at the back of his head and yanked him back up to his feet. He spun around to shove the guard away, and took a punch to the face instead.

Bofur still could not quiet down as the guards overpowered the Company and started pushing them in a line along the docks. He wasn’t the only one still verbally protesting, but he seemed to be the most desperate to get away.

His mind and heart had not stopped racing since the second they had been caught in the armoury. What was going to be done with them? They were obviously being taken to the master of the town, or to prison cells to be dealt with later. But what if they were to be enslaved and abused? It wouldn’t be Yevin and Abner and that place, but his nightmares would come true.

Bofur bit down hard on his lip as they stopped in front of the grandest building in the town and were pushed into a semi-circle in front of the guards. A huge crowd formed around them, and Bofur closed his eyes, trying to stop his body trembling in his fear. Bombur grabbed his sleeve from beside him. There was no one on Bofur’s other side, and for a second he considered making another run for it. But he knew he wouldn’t get through the crowd before he was caught again, and what kind of person would he be if he abandoned the others to that possible fate?

“What is going on here?”

Bofur looked up the stairs as who was presumably the master of the town and an aide, came out the doors. He had to close his eyes again for a moment, getting the nauseous feeling that he would not be surprised if this man would enslave them for sickening amusements.

Somehow, Thorin smoothed it all over and gained the Master’s support of their quest, to the cheers of the gathered crowd. Food, weapons, supplies, and a feast for tonight. The Company was ushered up the stairs and inside the building.

Despite the celebratory atmosphere, Bofur kept a wary eye on the guards. Though he still did partake in a good amount of drink, especially once Dwalin challenged him to a contest.

********

The sound of horns reached Bofur’s ears and penetrated the heavy fog in his head. He blinked a few times before understanding what the horns meant. “By my beard, is that the time?”

The bump to his head on the underside of the table joltingly woke him up further. It took a gulp of a half-full drink for him to realize that he was completely alone in here. “Bilbo?” he called out. “Bombur? Bifur?” At the lack of answer, his heart started pounding.

Where was everyone? How had he been left behind? Bofur rubbed his eyes, his head hurting from the amount he’d had to drink last night. They left him, all other thirteen people had left him here, alone.

Then he realized where he was. A large grand building, no doubt with guards and men who were untrustworthy and could do anything to him, now that he was alone. The walls felt as though they were closing around him, and he had to get out. Get out before anyone knew he was still here.

He burst from the front doors, shouting out in case any of his friends could hear, “Wait!” He followed the line of the crowds, knowing the rest of the company had to be at the center of the attention.

Had they all truly gone to the boat without him? How could they forget him? How could they leave him, drunk, hungover, under a table? In a less-than-welcome place?

Bofur broke through the crowd at the central canal, only to see the boat carrying the company already a good distance away, too far for him to run after and catch up. He put a hand over his mouth, panic threatening to overwhelm him. They had actually left him behind? What was he going to do?

Bofur glanced behind at the cheering crowd, mouth going dry as he started wondering how many of them would hurt him, if given the chance. He swallowed, trying to not call any attention to himself as he thought. Bard. The bargeman wasn’t happy with the turn of events last night, but he might let him stay until his friends returned.

He turned to make his way back through the crowd to find Bard’s home, and immediately froze at the sight of Fili, Kili, and Oin standing nearby, watching the boat disappear in the distance. “Did you miss the boat, too?”

With his attention focusing on helping Kili as the very pale dwarf nearly collapsed, Bofur didn’t think about what had happened until they were safe in Bard’s house.

He wasn’t alone here anymore, something he couldn’t help but quietly feel grateful for, even with Kili being ill. But no longer being alone, and being distracted by doing whatever he could for Kili, did not stop the rising bitterness and sense of betrayal at unceremoniously being left behind by every person who claimed to love him.


	24. Chapter 9

“It’s Bilbo!” Bofur said to the other three at the voice calling out to them. “He’s alive!” After everything that had happened, he had to run to the hobbit and embrace him tightly. Bilbo didn’t hold back in his relief, either. He practically jumped into the dwarf’s arms, kissed his cheek before burying his face into his neck. Bofur kissed Bilbo’s ear and nuzzled his nose into his hair.

Their greeting was much too brief for Bofur’s liking, and Bilbo gave an apologetic look before letting go to address them. “The others, they’re all alive. But you need to leave. We all need to leave, now.”

“But we’ve only just arrived,” Bofur replied, confused at Bilbo’s statement.

Bofur didn’t fully understand what was wrong with Thorin when they found him walking amongst the hills of gold, but he didn’t let it bother him when they found the others in a dining room. All that mattered was that all fourteen of them had somehow survived the dragon.

As each party’s tale was told, Bofur stayed out of the main attention, speaking up only to provide detail when prompted by the eager Fili and Kili. He was content with sitting on the floor in front of Bilbo, resting back against the hobbit’s legs and eating some rations.

Bombur leaned over to whisper if Bofur was alright, knowing this wasn’t his brother’s usual temperament, especially in this relieved and celebratory sort of atmosphere. Bofur replied with a dismissive, “Aye, don’t worry about me. Tired, is all.” That was the truth, to some extent.

Balin and the others led Bofur, Fili, Kili, and Oin to where they had all settled in a residential area. Bilbo took Bofur’s hand and pulled him inside the small home he had taken. Bilbo cleared his throat and started towards a closet. “There’s some clothes here that might fit-“

Bofur grabbed the hobbit’s arm and pulled him back. He took Bilbo’s other hand, and stared down at it. Now that he was away from the others and the relief of finding them alive lessened, the feelings of hurt and betrayal rose within him again, clear yet muddied at the same time.

“Bofur?” Bilbo stepped in closer.

Bofur swallowed, and rose his head, putting on a smile. “Sorry, I…” He went in for a kiss, needing to feel the other’s physical love. Though at the same time, he wasn’t sure if he wanted it. He didn’t know what to feel, what to think.

“I love you,” Bilbo whispered as they separated to breathe.

“I-“ Bofur’s throat choked up, somehow unable to say it back in this moment. Instead, he kissed Bilbo again, harder this time. “I need you,” he growled.

“You have me.”

“Aye…” Bofur spread his hand across the other’s chest. Bilbo initiated the next kiss, and tugged him into a bedroom. Bofur didn’t protest, despite his conflicting feelings.

They got as far as lying on the bed and getting out of the man-borrowed jackets and their shirts, touching and kissing and whispering. But Bofur had to stop, couldn’t keep going with the emotions telling him different things and overwhelming him.

Bilbo didn’t verbally ask what was wrong. He accepted it, and pulled Bofur down to rest their foreheads together.

“Sorry, I just… I’m exhausted.” Bofur rolled off to lie beside the hobbit. He considered making a joke about the hike from Laketown, but decided not to even bring the topic up.

Blibo got up and left for a moment, bringing back a set of clothes. “Don’t know if these will fit you, but I’m sure you could ask the others for something else if they don’t.”

Bofur sat up and scooted to the edge of the bed to take the clothes and change into the trousers. He noticed Bilbo picking up and folding the blue jacket in a careful manner, and genuinely smiled when he realized Bilbo was still in the same clothes. “Haven’t found anything that fits you?”

Bilbo chuckled and shook his head. “I’m sure I could find something for young dwarves, but…”

“I’d miss seeing your legs and feet.”

“Perish the very thought. What I’ve got on has gotten me through so far.”

“Aye, and made you look good.”

Bilbo swatted Bofur’s shoulder. Then he sighed and sat next to him, tone turning concerned. “You were quieter than I expected from you with the others.”

“Just tired,” Bofur replied, and laid down. He was grateful that Bilbo didn’t pressure him to answer further, like he rarely did. Bilbo turned down the lamps and climbed into bed.

They settled in the bed, Bofur hesitating a little before putting his arm over Bilbo’s waist and holding him close. It took him a little longer to drift into sleep than Bilbo. He hoped he would feel better about being left behind when he wakened.

********

Bofur didn’t feel any better the next morning. He tried to not let any of it show, though he wasn’t fooling anyone with his excuse of still being tired. Bilbo didn’t press him, trusting him to talk when he needed. Bofur didn’t want to, and it took Bifur pulling him aside for him to finally say, “If… if you want to know, then get Bilbo, Bombur, and Nori here, too.”

A couple hours later, when Thorin let them go from their search in the treasury for the arkenstone, Bofur went to the home that had temporarily become his and Bilbo’s. He started the fireplace, and couldn’t help but to stare into the flames. He heard his family and Nori come in, but didn’t break his gaze.

“It’s just the four of us here,” Nori said.

Bofur let out a deep and shuddering breath. “I… I know I shouldn’t rightfully be… it’s my fault, really. But I can’t help to feel…” He took another breath. “You left me.” His eyes finally broke from the flickering flames, and he turned to face the others. “All of you… you left me. Asleep and hungover and completely vulnerable under a table, in a place where we didn’t know or truly trust anyone.”

Bombur started to step forward, but stopped at the raise of his brother’s hand.

Bofur swallowed heavily. “Someone could’ve found me, kept me there, done… things to me.” His voice cracked. “Anything at all. And-“ he bit his lip for a moment. “And no one would’ve come back until it was too late, would’ve even known what was happening to me. I was so afraid when I woke up, and when I saw the boat too far away…” He turned back to the fireplace, and let out a long breath.

“When we woke up, it was a big rush, especially with Thorin wanting to get out the door as quick as possible. When we realized you were missing, Thorin wouldn’t let us go back for you,” Nori answered, though he realized how much of a bad excuse it sounded halfway through.

Bofur let out a humorless chuckle. “I figured that was the case, which is why I understand it’s my fault, too. And it did all somehow work out in the end. But it still hurts, you know? I know hurting me was not the intent, especially from you who know about everything, but it still hurts.”

Bifur approached and put his hand on Bofur’s shoulder. “ _I won’t ask for forgiveness, and_ -“

“I’ve already forgiven you,” Bofur interrupted, turning to his cousin. “All of you.” He pressed their foreheads together. “It’s just… going to take a bit for the sting of it to go away.” He gestured for the other three to come over and separated from Bifur. “You’re all forgiven, I mean it.”

“I’m so sorry,” Bombur said, choking up, as his brother pulled him into a hug. “We shouldn’t have-“

“I know,” Bofur replied, softly into his ear. “It stings, but it worked out. We’re all still here.” He let go, and extended his closed hand to Nori, who laid his hand over it as he stepped in close. “You’re still my mate, aye?”

“Of course. Don’t think you could get rid of me, even if you wanted.”

“Isn’t that the truth,” Bofur said, the corner of his mouth twitching up.

Bilbo had hung back, feeling as though he had let Bofur down the most. He had been with him through his entire recovery, seen the result of all the abuse, comforted him through his worst… and to leave him in that situation… how could he have done such a thing? He should’ve disregarded Thorin and gone back. It wouldn’t have caused that much of a delay. Bofur had every right to be angry and upset and hurt. He had every right to feel betrayed, even though he was forgiving for it now.

“Bilbo?” Bofur prompted, slowly going to him. He reached out and took the hobbit’s hands and held them up against his chest.

“I’m so so sorry, Bofur. I failed you-“

“No,” Bofur said, leaving no room for argument. “You’ve given too much to say you failed me.” He kissed Bilbo’s forehead. “It’ll take a couple days, I think, but I don’t want this to change us, aye? I still love you.”

Bilbo nodded, then snuggled in close. Bofur rested his chin on the top of the loose curls, and smiled to the other dwarves, who surrounded and embraced them.

It hurt, them leaving him alone like that. But despite the tendrils of fear and bitterness that still swirled in him, Bofur knew they loved him, and would never intentionally hurt him. He did forgive them.


	25. Chapter 10

 “You should be inside, out of the wind,” Bofur said in greeting when he saw Bilbo on the far end of the wall.

 Bilbo shot upright, and stammered, “I… needed some air. The place still stinks of dragon.”

 Bofur noticed the rope tied to the hook behind the hobbit. But he didn’t feel the betrayal he had at being left behind in Laketown. There had to be a reason why Bilbo would attempt this on his shift. “The elves have been moving their archers into position,” he stated, walking towards Bilbo. “The battle will be over by tomorrow’s eve.” He suddenly felt so tired, and he couldn’t stop the despairing thought. “Though I doubt we will live to see it.”

 “Don’t say that,” Bilbo replied. He hurried to the dwarf and took his hands. “We will, all of us.” He licked his bottom lip. “There might not even be a battle, not a need to fight.”

 Bofur snorted. “Anyone tell Thorin of that possibility?”  

 “I’m… He’ll understand that. He’ll have to.”

 “Whatever happens…” Bofur took Bilbo by the shoulders and pulled him in close. “No one could blame a soul for wishing themselves elsewhere,” he said, gesturing to the rope with his head.

 “It’s not what it looks like, and I wasn’t going to leave without telling you. Not again.”

 “I know you weren’t.” Bofur kissed the other’s forehead. “Be safe out there.”

 Bilbo gave a little reassuring smile. “I’ll try.”

 Bofur looked up to the sky, determining the time. “Must be near midnight. Bombur’s got the next watch. It’ll take a bit to wake him.”

 Bilbo pulled Bofur into a needy kiss. When they pulled apart, he stated, “Bofur, I will see you in the morning.”

 Bofur pressed their foreheads together, and they simply breathed for a moment. “Goodbye, Bilbo.”

 ********

 Thorin had just attempted to kill Bilbo. Even when he had gotten Bilbo safely away and over the wall, Bofur could not believe what had just happened. Thorin had nearly killed Bilbo, nearly dropped him over the wall. If Gandalf hadn’t arrived… Bofur didn’t want to think of it.

 Bofur stayed by the rope, watching Bilbo as he descended the wall and hurried to the gathered men and elves. He only half-heard what was being said between Thorin, Gandalf, Thranduil, and Bard. His attention stayed on Bilbo.

 “I’ll kill you all!”

 Bofur flinched at the shout so close to his ear, and let out a long breath as Thorin paced past him. Their king was too far gone now, surely? There was no need to fight, and yet here they still were.

 Then Dain arrived, and negotiations quickly fell apart. He didn’t attack the ranks of the men, where Bilbo was, but Bofur still was not at all happy about any of this. He was angry, silently holding it in. Bilbo had done this to save their lives from Thorin’s stubbornness and sickness. Not only the lives of the Company, but of all the elves, men, and dwarves outside. And Thorin had declared him traitor and tried to kill him.

 Thankfully, the fighting between the dwarves and elves didn’t last long, though the reason was because of the arrival of the orcs.

 “I’m going over the wall, who’s with me?” Fili roused.

 Bofur had one hand on the rope, and stopped at Thorin’s command of “Stand down.” The protest from the Company was cut short by their leader repeating the order louder.

 “Thorin, wait!” Bofur was the first to follow the king down the stone steps of the wall. If he had been thinking straight, he would’ve realized the last person Thorin would want to see was him. “We can’t just abandon-“ He stopped when Thorin turned.

 Thorin’s face twisted into utter contempt. “Perhaps I should’ve sent you out there to appease Thranduil and Bard. It’s what you know.”

 Bofur knew exactly what he meant, and was too shocked to act like Thorin had just slapped him across the face. “What good would that have done? Thranduil wouldn’t take me like that, it’s not in elf nature. Bard wouldn’t either, it’s not in his. And if you’re suggesting letting the orcs-“

 Thorin rushed forward, seized Bofur by the collar, and slammed him back against the wall. “I am your king!” he shouted. “You would do as I commanded.”

 Bofur raised his hand to gesture to the others, who were rushing down the stairs to break them up, telling them to not interfere. He swallowed heavily, but didn’t shrink back from Thorin’s angry and sneering face.

 “What are you talking about?” Fili demanded to know.

 Thorin’s grip on Bofur’s armour loosened slightly, and his face split into a strange grin. In a loud voice, he started, “His little secret-“

 “Thorin, no, please-“ All Bofur could do was stand here and let it happen.

 “He’s a whore, letting people take and use him. Too weak to fight back,” Thorin spat. He let go and stepped back.

 Bofur’s heart pounded viciously, his chest feeling like it was being beaten and bruised from the inside. He stared straight ahead, not seeing Erebor anymore, but that place that had been his hell for so long. All the memories flooded into his mind, memories and emotions he had worked so hard to keep at bay. He slid down the wall, caught by someone before he reached the floor.

 Bofur was barely aware of being moved, taken by the hand and led somewhere away from everyone else. Barely aware of his cousin’s shouting after Thorin. All he could feel was the pain of the memories, and the shame that came with it all, washing over him, seeping into his heart and squeezing until he was afraid it might burst within his chest.

 Once inside the guardhouse, Bofur sank to his knees and began shaking. He keeled over, and was once again caught by his brother. Bifur rushed over to him, dropping to his knees and tilting Bofur’s head up to look into his eyes.

 Bofur could only let out a humorless chuckle. “Come to save me?” The room changed around him, and he shrank back against Bombur. “Doubt anything can now…” he mumbled as Bifur dissolved from his view.

 Bofur didn’t know how long he sat in the guardhouse, lying in his side with his head in Bombur’s lap. Bifur stood nearby, guarding them, not letting anyone come in. All he could do was lay there, clutching his hat to his chest, drifting between two realities. The faint sounds of the battle outside mixed with his own screams and cries from his memory. He needed Bilbo, and Bilbo… wasn’t here.

 “Bofur?”

 Bofur opened his eyes to find Balin standing there, looking down at him. He bit his lip and his fingers tightened in the fur of his hat.

 “Do you mind if I’m here?” Balin crouched down, his voice gentle and soothing.

 Bofur pushed himself up from Bombur’s lap and huddled in on himself, though he nodded. He glanced over to Bifur, who was watching over them. Bifur gestured for Bombur to join him and leave Bofur and Balin alone.

 Once Bombur got up, Balin sat on his knees and slightly moved closer. Bofur flinched back and hugged his legs tighter. “Sorry,” the older dwarf apologized. “I’m not meaning to startle you or anything.”

 Bofur was silent and staring ahead for a long moment, not really even seeing the person in front of him. He opened his mouth and took a few deep breaths, trying to remember Bilbo’s gentle assuring touches to get him through his bad days. Anything to ease the relentless barrage in his mind.

 “Silly, isn’t it? What’s happening out there… and I…” Bofur tapped the side of his head. “I’m lost, in here.” He blinked and stared down at his hat. “Lost, because of a thing Thorin said. Trivial, considering…”

 “What you went through sounds traumatizing. This kind of reaction to-“

 “Bilbo is out there. He’s out there, fighting for his life. And I’m… I need him here, with me. He could die out there, and I’m safe behind the wall… lost.” Bofur lowered his face into the front of his hat to hide his coming tears. His throat constricted as he started reliving the horrible memories again.

 “What happened to you… it hasn’t made us think any less of you,” Balin assured.

 Bofur gritted his teeth and raised his head, breaking through the pain in his head. “This quest… I’ve been trying so hard to keep what happened inside me. I-I needed to be… to have…” He snorted in frustration. “None of you knew. Of course I told my family and Nori, but the rest of you… you didn’t know. I could… be among you without being judged for it, hurt because of it.” He squeezed his eyes shut for a second to force his mind to stay here with Balin.

 Bofur couldn’t keep it in anymore, and there was no longer any point to doing so. He heavily swallowed and stared ahead, wishing there was a flame to focus his eyes on. His tears leaked from his eyes unchecked, blurring his vision. “Yevin and those people… they took everything from me. My freedom… that was only the first thing they stole.”

 “They enslaved you?”

 “Aye…”

 “For what Thorin said.”

 Bofur nodded. “I was there, trained to be used and abused.” He buried his face in his hat again for a moment. When he raised his head, a small wistful smile appeared on his face. “Then Bilbo came, saved me. I… I didn’t understand it at first. He had bought me at an auction, you see, so I didn’t understand, thought he was going to hurt me. I… But he didn’t. He gave me… everything he could to help me recover, get through it all.”

 Bofur’s gaze moved to meet Balin’s eyes. “I-I thought there was nothing left of me to salvage… But he made me understand that there were still pieces of me. There were pieces of me, ones that could be put back together. He’s done everything to do that, to make me whole again, as whole as I can be. He saved me, from that life and from the overwhelming despair and pain that came with it.” He shuddered and tightened his grip on his hat. “What Thorin’s done… he nearly killed Bilbo. He’s… undoing what Bilbo worked so hard to do for me. Mahal, I’m so… lost without him.”

 Balin laid his hand on Bofur’s knee. “Bilbo has made you understand that you can recover from what happened to you. He’s given you the tools to find yourself again. You might feel lost without him, while the terrible memories threaten to overwhelm you, but you are strong. Whatever happens today… you are strong. So is he.”

 Bofur wiped his eyes to see the other dwarf clearly. “What’s going on out there…” he shook his head with a shuddering exhale. “What Thorin expects of us now… I’m just…”

 “I know, laddie. But whatever happens, hold onto yourself, aye?”

 Bofur’s nodded his head in a jerky movement, and let out a long breath. Balin was right. He couldn’t lose himself, not like this, not right now. Not when Bilbo was out there. He had to hold onto who he was, no matter what had happened and what was to come.

 And when Thorin asked them if they were willing to follow him one last time, Bofur was strong enough to stand and raise his weapon with the rest of the Company.  


	26. Chapter 11

 Bofur rushed towards Bilbo, his body forgetting its battle-fatigue at the sight of him. Tears shone in both their eyes as they tightly embraced, though their hearts were mostly filled with relief that the other had survived.

 They didn’t say anything for a long moment, simply contenting in holding onto each other. Bofur buried his nose in the dirty curls, and Bilbo pressed his cheek to the strong chest. When they slightly pulled apart, they pressed their foreheads together and breathed.

 Then Bilbo noticed the line of half-dried blood up the split tunic and just barely stopping at Bofur’s throat. Bofur noticed and shook his head. “I’m alright, I promise. Nothing serious.”

 Bilbo kissed the dwarf’s cheek, then looked out to the gathered Company on the ice below, mourning the loss of Thorin. Bofur turned as well, looking over the group that he had left to find Bilbo. “Miraculous, us surviving… all but one.”

 “He didn’t die alone, at least. I was with him.” Bilbo sniffled. “Then soon after he… Fili and Kili and Dwalin found us… and I thought it would be best… to leave them to it.”

 Bofur pushed down his conflicting emotions on their leader’s recent actions. Trying to kill Bilbo, humiliating Bofur and making him lose himself in those memories… But he had gone down fighting, throwing off the madness to vanquish Azog the Defiler. Only half a day had gone by since they were staring down the elves and Men from the wall, and everything had changed so quickly.

 Bilbo found a stone to sit on, and Bofur followed suit. Their fingers entwined, and Bofur whispered an “I love you,” which Bilbo responded to by squeezing his hand a little tighter. Through the hell of the battle, they had survived, and found each other. Both quietly leaned into each other, thinking of similar thoughts and not-so-similar ones. Both simply taking comfort from having the other so close, taking comfort in the knowledge that they still had each other, despite everything that had happened.

 ********

 The fatigue truly hit when the procession from Ravenhill, carrying their fallen leader between them, made it inside the ruined front gate of Erebor. The Company took Thorin to a safe room to be prepared for the eventual funeral. Balin laid a cloth over him, covering his face.

 Then Balin turned to Fili and bowed his head. “You are our king now.” He lifted his gaze, with a little smile, “And as my first advice, may I suggest you be seen by the healers?”

 “I… I suppose I will. After…” Fili let out a long breath and glanced to Kili. To the others, he requested, “Could we be left alone for a bit? You all… may do as you wish. Rest. You… we…” He bit his lip and turned to the body of his uncle on the slab. His brother went to his side and placed a hand on his shoulder. With some words of comfort to Fili and Kili, the Company left them to privately mourn.

 Once in the living area of the city, where they parted ways to the temporary homes they had claimed since arriving, Bilbo found himself being looked over by a surprisingly axe-less Bifur.

 “Good, no injury?” Bifur asked, in Common.

 Bilbo blinked, but recovered quickly enough from the surprise. “Not… not that I can tell. Nasty knock on the head, mostly.”

 “Good,” Bifur repeated, patting his shoulder, then Bofur’s, before turning into a house with Bombur.

 Bilbo stared after him, then looked to Bofur for explanation. Bofur shrugged and couldn’t help the little chuckle at the hobbit’s expression. “Quite a shock for Bombur and me, too, when it happened and he spoke.”

 “Shouldn’t… shouldn’t he get that looked at?”

 “I’m sure Oin will corner him soon enough.” Bofur took Bilbo’s hand and led him to their small house. Their mood turned back to the shocked and sad state. “We should… get cleaned up.”

 They were quiet as they undressed from their armour and clothes, and filled up a basin with water to scrub the worst of the blood and grime from their bodies.  

 Once they were clean and in fresh clothes, they laid together on the bed, Bofur sitting up against the headboard, holding Bilbo close. For a long time, they said nothing. Some tears fell, though they weren’t fully crying, simply working through the emotions from the battle and its outcome.

 Then Bilbo quietly said, “I talked with him, before he…” He nuzzled his cheek against Bofur’s chest as his voice trailed away.

 Bofur kissed the hobbit’s temple and rubbed his back, letting him decide when to talk, as Bilbo had done with him so many times before.

 “He apologized,” Bilbo said after a long minute. He took one of the dwarf’s hands and started absentmindedly playing with the fingers. “To me, for what he’d tried to do and for leading me into such perils… But he also apologized to you.”  

 Bofur raised his eyebrow in slight surprise. “He did?”

 “He didn’t say for what exactly, but he wanted to make it right.” Bilbo stared up into the other’s eyes. “What happened?”

 Bofur turned his head. He hadn’t wanted to bring this up, not now that Thorin was dead, not when he didn’t want to be disrespectful of Thorin’s sacrifice. “It’s silly now, with everything that’s happened since this morning,” he finally replied.

 Bilbo turned the dwarf’s head back to him with gentle fingers. “What have I said about thinking these things silly?” He sighed. “It was important enough for Thorin to apologize as he drew his final breaths.”

 Bofur blew out a breath. “When… the battle started, and Thorin told us to stand down, to not go out and fight, I… provoked him, tried to stop him from leaving , make him see reason.” He felt the need to defend Thorin’s actions, though thinking of them now still brought a sting. “I should’ve let someone else do it.”

 “What did he do?”

 “Announced my past, my secret, to the rest of them.” Bofur’s next breath came out shaky. “I… didn’t take it well. Went into shock, I suppose, and started reliving it all.”

 Bilbo bit his lip, and stared down at Bofur’s hand in his. “Are you…?”

 “Better now?” Bofur finished. “I… was able to get myself together enough to run out into battle with the others. That has to count for something, aye?”

 “And now?” Bilbo looked back up.                                            

 “Now… I am so tired, so exhausted. I don’t want to even think about anything that’s happened today, my internal struggles and otherwise.” Bofur squeezed Bilbo’s fingers. “It hurts, what he did. But, in the end… I’m still here. We’re both still here. I’ll heal from this. We all will.” He gave a reassuring smile and brought his hand up to Bilbo’s cheek. “I love you,” he whispered, going in to nuzzle his nose to Bilbo’s. “I love you… I love you…”

 Bilbo pushed down his anger at Thorin and what he had made Bofur go through. It certainly wouldn’t do much good now. He lifted his hand to caress the dwarf’s neck, and turned the nuzzling into soft kissing. “I love you…”

 They were much too exhausted, emotionally and physically, to do anything more than gentle kisses and touches, but it was all they needed. They would heal from this ordeal, from the dragon and the battle and their own terrible memories.

 And yet, now that the adrenaline from the battle had faded, those memories that had plagued and incapacitated him threatened to do so again.


	27. Chapter 12

 Bilbo awakened, not to the usual weight of Bofur’s arms around him and warmth of his body snuggled close, but to a noticeable lightness and chill. He turned his head, and found Bofur’s body turned away from him, curled up tightly. Bilbo bit his lip as he fully turned over and looked up and down the dwarf’s body.

 Tense, even in sleep. Bilbo clamped down on blaming what Thorin had done, at least in full. After everything that had happened yesterday… who would be completely fine? Besides, the heaviness in his heart at Thorin’s death prevented him from doing so.

 “Bofur?” Bilbo softly said.

 Bofur’s fingers tightened in the sheets for a second before the dwarf opened his eyes. He looked slightly confused for a moment before he turned to Bilbo hovering above him. “Morning,” he greeted, putting on a little smile.

 “Are… are you alright?”

 Bofur blinked a few times and sat up to stretch his limbs. “Aye, I think so. As well as I can be, I think. You?”

 Bilbo kissed the other’s forehead. “The same.” He decided not to mention the unusual position they had awakened in.

 Bofur wriggled his fingers in front of them. “I’ve got all my limbs and senses, and so do you, so we’re alright.”

 The hobbit knew that wasn’t all there was to this, but still thought it would be best not to say anything. Bofur would come to him, like he normally did when things bothered him.

 “Are you up for heavy lifting?” Bofur asked. He kept his tone light, but the image of the bloody body-strewn battlefield that needed to be cleared away filled both their minds.

 “I can do my part,” Bilbo nodded.

 He kept an eye on Bofur as they worked, and while the dwarf kept more distance between himself than most of the members of the Company, Bilbo understood why. To have that secret let out like that to them… staying away gave less opportunity to be judged and ridiculed. Not that Bilbo believed any of them would do such a thing, and he was certain Bofur thought the same, too. But the instinct to protect himself was too strong to allow Bofur to act as though nothing had happened.

 ********

 When Bilbo woke up the next day to find Bofur once again turned away from him, and this time clutching his hat tightly to his chest in a death grip, his heart sunk into his stomach. Bilbo’s gentle prodding only made the other’s body tense more, until Bofur awakened.

 Bofur glanced down and stared at his hat for a long moment, then he wordlessly got up and rubbed his face with his hand.

 “Bofur-“

 “I’m fine. Just… nightmares, you know? Not only about… that time. Bound to have a few, aye?”

 Bilbo nodded and accepted the explanation. Though when Bofur left his hat behind when they left the little house, Bilbo understood just how deeply Thorin’s words had cut.

 

 Bilbo pulled Bombur aside when they took a lunch break. He didn’t need to ask if Bombur had noticed the change in his brother. It was obvious to all of them, and the general consensus was to let him be and he would return to his usual self. And with all the mourning and grisly work being done, no one was quite themselves. Still, Bilbo had to at least know the details of what had gone on after he had climbed down the wall.

 “What did Thorin say to Bofur after the battle began?” he asked. It would be asking Bombur to speak ill of their dead king, one who had acted from gold sickness and anger, but Bilbo’s concern was more for the living than the dead.

 Bombur swallowed, and let out a breath of hesitance. “Thorin suggested that he should’ve sent Bofur out to appease Thranduil and Bard, and maybe even the orcs, since it was what Bofur knew. And… and that he would command Bofur to obey, and he would have to do it.”

 Bilbo ran a hand through his hair and covered his mouth with his other hand.

 Bombur glanced across the dining space, to where Bofur was eating with Bifur and Nori. “I noticed he doesn’t have his hat today.” He turned back to the hobbit. “What does that mean?”

 Bilbo didn’t want to tell Bombur anything that Bofur might not have already, but he needed someone to understand. “He… he didn’t wear it for a good while after I had rescued him. He hadn’t been allowed to, but was allowed to keep it. When he started wearing it again, it was like reasserting himself… reassuring himself that he could heal from everything.”

 Bombur bit his thumb in thought. “You think him not wearing it today means he’s… regressing?”

 “I fear so, yes. He says he’s fine, as well as any of us can be right now. Maybe I am worrying too much when I don’t need to, but…”

 “You’ve seen Bofur in a way that Bifur and I haven’t. In a way that… I hope never have to see. I got a taste of that after Thorin said what he did. He was so… lost, in his own head.”

 Bilbo bit back the curse of Thorin’s name. It wouldn’t do any good now, though he did briefly wonder how Thorin would’ve reacted to this situation had he survived the battle. “The stress of everything… maybe he will be able to bounce back given some time.”

 “Is there anything we can do?”

 Bilbo blew out a breath. “For now, I say we don’t treat him any differently. That’s why he wanted so desperately for the others not to know about all this.”

 “If you think that’s best.” Bombur looked to his brother again. “Do you think he’ll come to understand that they don’t think any ill of him?”

 “I’m sure he will, given enough time.”  

  ********

 Bofur retreated to the little home right after he had finished dinner, needing to be alone. He picked his hat up from the desk, and absentmindedly brushed any specks of dirt from it. He knew what leaving it behind this morning had meant…

 Then the emotional realization crashed down on him, and he sank down on the edge of the bed, clutching the hat to his chest. He had woken with it in his hands, the way he used to every morning during his enslavement, through until when Bilbo had helped rebuild him enough. He had gone the entire day without it, and now that he was in privacy again, clenched to it as though his very sanity depended on it, like he had used to do.

 Was it truly all due to what Thorin had done? In the way Thorin had threatened to hurt him? In the way Thorin had betrayed his secret? The battle had been draining, of course, and they all still felt it. It would take them all time to come to grips with it and the outcome.

 But no one else was avoiding most of the Company. He couldn’t even find the strength to talk to them now. He believed when Balin had told him they would not judge him for what happened to him. But he was still so afraid to let himself be among them. He was… as Thorin had put it, too weak to fight back. Now that they all knew, what good was he for them? Perhaps they didn’t negatively judge him, but they still knew, and it would certainly colour their perception of him.

 Everyone else had paid their private respects to Thorin, alone with his body. Bofur couldn’t even do that. He knew Thorin hadn’t been himself when he had threatened him. But it still sliced deeply. Bilbo said that Thorin had apologized for it, and while that was well and good… the threat from his king to be used as the very thing he had been rescued from and worked so hard to heal from…

 A memory surfaced, one of pain and begging and screaming. Bofur swallowed , tightening his fingers’ grip on his hat. “Don’t do this, please…” he pleaded of his mind. “It’s behind me. Please, not anymore.” He bit his lip as tears began to well in his eyes and blur his vision.

 He couldn’t afford to get lost again, to lose himself to it all again. “Mahal, please… I can’t…”

 

 When Bilbo came in, Bofur was in the bed, turned to the wall, body curled in on itself, and hands hugging the hat against his chest. He hadn’t wiped away his earlier tears, and the tracks shone on his cheeks.


	28. Chapter 13

 Bofur’s body tensed at the movement behind him. He knew it was nothing more than Bilbo waking up, but in his state of mind, it was enough reason to react with fear. He took a few deep breaths in an attempt to relax, which helped a little.

 “Bofur?” came Bilbo’s concerned voice as the hobbit sat up.

 “Morning,” Bofur replied, voice strained.

 “Look at me?”

 Bofur bit his lip as he turned over, away from the wall. He ran a hand over his face and tried to put on a smile.

 Bilbo saw right through any attempt to reassure him. “You had nightmares last night. You didn’t wake me, but I can see it. Didn’t get much sleep, did you?”

 Bofur sighed and shook his head. He muttered, “Learned to suffer silently…” He took a deep breath. “New ones… not of Yevin and Abner and everyone else in that place.” He sat up and brought his knees to his chest, still clutching his hat. “I’m… I’m afraid to even go out there.”

 “You don’t think the Company-“

 Bofur shook his head. “Not of them. Dain’s soldiers.”

 Bilbo scooted closer, and lightly laid his hand on Bofur’s knee.

 “Surely after a hard-fought battle, some of them would want… want that.”

 “They would be insane to try that with any of Thorin’s Company.”

 “Perhaps… perhaps not.”

 Bilbo cleared his throat. “What… what makes you think they would target you? They don’t know about your past.”

 Bofur shrugged. “Maybe… I don’t know. Maybe they can sense it about me somehow, if they’re in the proper mood for it.” He pressed his face into the fur of his hat for a moment. “So stupid, all these terrible thoughts because of one thing a person who wasn’t even in his right mind said. I know that, but I still can’t… I can’t help this. He didn’t even do… he pushed me against the wall when he made the threat, but that was it. He didn’t do anything else. He will never even get the chance to do anything else. But everyone else… they can.”

 “They won’t. You know why?”

 Bofur turned his head to face Bilbo.

 “Because I’m here. And not just me, but your family, and the rest of Company. I… we won’t let anything like that happen to you. Not while we’re here with you. Do you… do you doubt that?”

 “I don’t know.” Bofur blew out a frustrated breath. “I was with Bifur and Nori when Yevin came and captured me. That was… seven of them? If a group of Dain’s men wants to take advantage of me now…”

 Bilbo leaned in, and only at the dwarf tilting his head to him did he plant a small kiss on his cheek. “You should stay here for as long as you need today. Try to sleep. Try to relax. Anything.”

 Bofur bit his lip from responding that he shouldn’t be left alone. Not when he was afraid of anyone he didn’t know or trust coming in and taking advantage of him. But Bilbo was right, he was exhausted and not in his right mind. He wasn’t going to be any good to anyone like this. And he didn’t dare to ask for Bilbo to stay with him or request someone to guard the door. He couldn’t let himself be such a burden when there was so much work to be done.

 “Is that alright with you?”

 “Aye, I suppose so.”

 Bilbo let out a long breath and pressed his forehead to Bofur’s. “I love you. Your family loves you. The rest of the Company likes you… None of us would let this happen to you again.”

 Bofur nuzzled his nose against Bilbo’s cheek, and breathed in through his nostrils. The hobbit’s scent meant safety, comfort, warmth, love… things he needed to hold on to.

 They simply sat like that for a few minutes, until they both silently and mutually decided to part.

 “Do you want me to bring you anything to eat?” Bilbo asked.

 Bofur shook his head. “Not really hungry right now.”

 Bilbo kissed the other’s forehead.

 “I’ll be alright, promise.” Bofur tried to inject some lightness into his voice. “I love you.” He did get up after Bilbo, and locked the door behind him as the hobbit left.

 Bofur ran his hand over his face as he went back to the bedroom and stared down at his hat, tears threatening to wet his face again.

 ********

 Bofur flinched at the knock on the door. He stayed still and closed his eyes for a long moment. The knock came again, but this time accompanied with Bifur’s voice calling through the door.

 Bofur let out a long breath and rubbed his eyes. The only thing he had accomplished in the time from Bilbo leaving to now was having more terrible thoughts about his time in Yevin’s hands, his nightmares about Yevin catching them all somewhere along the journey, and his fears for what could happen now.

 He got up from the bed and went to the door. He opened the hatch to make certain it actually was his cousin. At the sight of Bifur standing there, with a plate of food and pitcher of water in hand, he said, “Surely there are more important things you could be doing than checking up on me?”

 Bifur shook his head. “Nothing more important.”

 Bofur looked down to his feet. He couldn’t suffer alone. He did need someone, despite Bilbo’s efforts to give him the space and time they both thought he needed to work through this. Though his desire to not be seen as a burden made him want to retreat away even further.

 “Bofur?” the other dwarf prompted.

 The need to have someone with him won out, and he unlocked and opened the door. “Sorry, I’m just…”

 Bifur walked past him and put the food on the table. “You should eat.”

 “Not hungry,” Bofur shrugged. Though he did join his cousin at the table. Bifur pushed the plate and pitcher towards him, and Bofur picked up a piece of bread. At Bifur’s expectant look, he sighed, “If it’ll make you feel better,” before beginning to eat.

 Bofur was somewhat surprised that it did start to make him feel a little better. Though that probably also had to do with Bifur being here, unjudging and protecting. His cousin didn’t say anything as ate, just watched him. Only when Bofur had finished most of the food and leaned back in the chair, did Bifur ask him a question.

 “When we found you at Bilbo’s home, you said you didn’t try to contact us because you couldn’t face us. What did you mean?”

 Bofur let out a humourless chuckle and shook his head.

 “You’re suffering. Maybe this’ll help?” Bifur watched the younger dwarf for a short moment. “Was it shame?”

 Bofur stared down at his hands. “That was some of it, aye.”

 Bifur left his seat to kneel in front of Bofur. “How could you think we would be ashamed of you? Were you ashamed of me, of my condition, after my injury?”

 “No, but… but that was different. You nearly died protecting our home. I couldn’t possibly be ashamed to help you after that. But me… what happened… it’s not the same.”

 “Perhaps not. But does that have to make what happens after different?”

 “I don’t know… Mahal, the state I was in when Bilbo rescued me… You wouldn’t have recognized me. I was so… so broken. They had taken everything from me. I wasn’t the dwarf you knew and loved. How could I possibly face you like that? I would’ve been a burden.”

 “Did you think me a burden?”

 “Bifur, it’s not like that. I mean… I don’t know. I was going to come back when I felt I was ready to. I made progress, being with Bilbo and in the Shire. The night you came to start the quest, I knew I still wasn’t entirely who I had been the last time you had seen me.” Bofur’s gaze went back down to his hands. “When Dwalin came to the door, I hid. Can you imagine that? Me hiding away from company?”

 Bifur didn’t answer.

 “But I did, because I was so afraid that he was… there to take me back to that place. I’d had nightmares about that. Then Balin came in and I was really confused and scared. I decided I had to know what they were doing here, so I came from my hiding spot, with a dining knife in hand. Thinking back, I probably wouldn’t have done much damage to them with it, but it’s the thought that counts, right? The thing is, even on that night when you all fell through the door, I knew I hadn’t made the progress I had wanted to before seeing you again.”

 “Then why did you come along?”

 “I suppose… because I felt… I wanted to. And I certainly couldn’t let Bilbo go without me. Not that he would’ve left me.”

 Bifur let out a deep breath. “We missed you.”

 “I know, and I’m so sorry. But I just… wasn’t ready.”

 Bifur nodded in understanding. “I’m glad Bilbo found you, and that you stayed with him for your recovery.” He flashed a little smile. “Though a message would’ve been nice.”

 Bofur returned the light grin. Then Bifur took his hand and led him over to the cushioned chair, just big enough for the both of them to sit on.

 “If you can heal and recover from that horror, then you can get through whatever thoughts Thorin brought up when he threatened you.”

 Bofur leaned into his cousin’s side and laid his head on his shoulder. “It’ll take some time.”

 “Healing always does.”

 ********

 Bilbo and Bombur entered the house, and stopped at the sight of Bofur asleep and curled up against Bifur’s side. Bifur simply smiled and nodded to them.


	29. Chapter 14

 Winter came, and with it, the start of restoring Erebor. Bofur was still cautious around the dwarves from the Iron Hills. But the blatant fear of them hurting him had calmed. Along with repairing the damage to the mountain, he was repairing the damage within himself. In both, the progress was slow, but sure and steady.

 But with all that, Bilbo wondered if he would ever get to see the dwarf he loved at a point before he had been enslaved. His wish that they had met before prickled the back of his mind. Surely the damage was too deep to ever completely forget the experience and not still have some influence, no matter how long since the rescue and freedom. There was a sadness with realizing it would always be within Bofur, that there would always be days more difficult than others for him. Though really, after the battle, Bilbo would certainly have nightmares of his own, knowing that this journey had changed him with its dangers and heartaches.

 ********

 Bofur awakened, with Bilbo in his arms. But this morning, something felt… different. Not bad different, not that anything was wrong, but something within him was different.

 As he stared down at the head of dark blonde hair, he slowly began to realize what it was. He couldn’t imagine being without Bilbo. While he wished they had come together in better circumstances, he couldn’t imagine his life without ever having met and being with the hobbit. And now that he had this, he never wanted to be without it, without this safety, comfort, and love.

 Bilbo stirred, and snuggled closer as he yawned. After a moment, he looked up to Bofur’s face. “You’ve been up for a little while?”

 “Aye… just thinking.”

 Bilbo nuzzled his forehead against Bofur’s facial hair. “Anything particular?”

 “Don’t know yet. Haven’t finished thinking,” Bofur replied lightly.

 “Mhm…” Bilbo stretched his legs. “Let me know when you have finished, then.”

 “Maybe I will later, if it turns out to be anything of note.”

 They laid together for a few more minutes, until they had to get up for another day of working to restore Erebor.

 ********

 Bofur didn’t bring up his morning musings that day, or even the next one. He wanted the time to properly think on what it meant before bringing it to Bilbo.

 Then, once he figured it out, he felt the need to talk to Bifur and Bombur about it. He pulled them aside during lunchtime, away from where anyone could eavesdrop.

 “What… what would you think if Bilbo and I… if we were to be married?”

 “You’re getting married?” Bombur responded.

 “I haven’t asked him yet. I’m still… thinking about it.”

Bifur laid a hand on Bofur’s forearm. “You’re happy when you’re with him. You love him. From what I’ve seen, he only has love for you. If you’re happy together, what is the concern?”

 Bofur let out a long breath. “You’re alright with this, then?”

 Bombur smiled. “I wouldn’t be opposed to a hobbit brother-in-law.”

 Bofur half-smiled and nervously stroked his goatee. “I don’t know what he’ll say, but I… I’m glad you’re supportive.”

 “When will you ask?” Bombur asked.

 “Not sure. I suppose… when the moment feels right?”

 “Are you ready for it?” Bifur quietly asked.

 “Aye, I think so. I want… I want to be with him, for the rest of our lives.” Bofur wistfully stared off for a moment. Then he refocused on his brother and cousin. “Not a word of this to anyone, aye?”

 “Of course not,” Bombur replied.

 “You can trust me,” Bifur responded, a smile lifting the corners of his mouth.

 Bofur raised his brow at Bombur. “Don’t start planning it yet.”

“No promises on that,” Bombur replied with a grin.

 ********

 A couple days later, Bofur and Bifur were helping go through the marketplace, taking inventory of what was too damaged to salvage and what could be used.

 “Asked him yet?” Bifur inquired, going through the contents of a chest in a shop.

 Bofur rolled his eyes in annoyance, though he was still appreciative by the excitement from his family. “Not yet. Maybe I shouldn’t have told you until it had been done.”

 Bifur chuckled. “I’m not trying to rush you into it.”

 “I know. Perhaps… I’m just afraid of if he says no.”

 Bifur pulled a stack of blankets from the chest. “I trust him. After what happened to you, that kind of trust…”

 “Aye, that kind of trust…”

 They worked for another hour, before someone knocked on the shop’s doorframe. At the little exclamation at how hard the surface was, Bofur grinned and peered out from behind a shelf.

 Bilbo smiled back and held up a large plate of food, and picked up the water pitcher he had put down to knock.

 “Lunch is here,” Bofur called out to the other side of the shop. He cleared space off of a counter for the plate. To the hobbit, he asked, “Are you making rounds, or is this just for us?”

 “I went looking for you specifically. I had to make sure you didn’t forget to eat.”

 Bofur kissed Bilbo’s cheek. They turned at the sound of Bifur bumping hard against something, and the older dwarf came around the corner rubbing the back of his head.

 “Hurt yourself?” Bilbo asked.

 Bifur shook his head. “Thanks for bringing food.”

 They sat and ate for a little while, chatting about little things. Bofur watched as Bilbo and Bifur went on a tangent for a bit, smiling at the fact that Bilbo gelled well with his family. He hid the way his smile widened with a piece of bread at the thought of introducing Bilbo to his nieces and nephews.

 Bofur came back to the present when Bilbo stood up and brushed his trousers of any crumbs. The hobbit stated, “I should get back to the library and help Balin and Ori.”

 Bofur stood up, and paused for a second. Then he smiled. The moment felt right.

 Bilbo picked up the plate, and Bofur put his hand on the hobbit’s forearm to stop him from lifting it. Bilbo looked up with some confusion on his face.

 Bofur took Bilbo’s hand and pulled him away from the counter. He glanced over to Bifur and raised his eyebrows for a quick second before turning his attention back to Bilbo. Bofur took a breath to calm any potential nerves, though he was so certain about this. He kept one hand holding Bilbo’s, and placed his other  hand on Bilbo’s chest, over his heart, and slowly went down to both knees, not breaking eye contact. Bilbo didn’t know what the action meant, but that was fine, he would understand soon.

 Bofur took another calming breath. “Bilbo… would you like to spend the rest of our lives together?”

 Bilbo’s confused expression changed to his eyes slowly widening. “Are you… are you asking me to marry you?”

 “Aye… if you want.”

 Bilbo’s face split into a smile. “I would. I would very much like that.”

 Bofur’s felt weightless as his heart seemed to soar in his chest. He stayed on his knees for a couple seconds more, before rising to his feet. He wrapped his arms around Bilbo’s middle as he stood and lifted him off his feet. Bilbo threw his arms around Bofur’s neck as the dwarf spun around and nuzzled his nose in Bilbo’s neck.  

 When Bofur put him down, Bilbo took a small step back and asked, “Is this what you’ve been thinking about for the better part of a week?”

 Bofur nodded.

 “Took him long enough,” Bifur teased.

 “Oh hush, you.” Bofur took Bilbo’s hands and pulled him in for a kiss. “I love you,” he whispered. When Bilbo returned the sentiment, Bofur closed his eyes and cherished the warmth the rose within him.


	30. Chapter 15

 

 The wedding ceremony took place when spring came. While Bofur knew Bilbo wouldn’t back out on this, there was always a part of him every day that wondered if the hobbit would decide that this wasn’t for him. If that had happened, Bofur would be happy with their relationship, even without making it official like this. Still, he wanted this, and another part of him couldn’t believe that Bilbo also wanted to spend their lives together.

 Bofur was a long way from the dwarf who couldn’t believe that someone would rescue him from that horrible life he thought he was destined for, that someone wouldn’t want to abuse him. Not only had someone saved him, but that person had helped him heal and given him whatever he needed to recover. That person had given him so much back, including love. And now… they were going to be married. None of that had ever entered Bofur’s mind as a possibility while in the clutches of that hell.

 Bofur’s stomach fluttered as he streaked the silver paint across his cheeks and down the bridge of his nose. Then he painted a triangle shape on the back of his hands, before dipping his fingers into a basin of water to wash the paint from them.

 He let out a long breath as he closed his eyes to combat any more rising nervousness. He had no reason to be nervous. Bilbo loved him, and wanted this as much as he did.

 Bofur opened his eyes and pulled on the bottom of his tunic to straighten it, not that it needed it. He looked fine, and couldn’t remember ever having been so concerned with his appearance in his life. He knew Bilbo would accept him, no matter if his hair was perfectly in place or not. The hobbit had seen him at the worst point in his life, and still fallen in love with him. Still, he wanted to look his best for his wedding.

 Once he felt ready, Bofur stepped outside of the room. Bombur smiled at him, and escorted him through the halls of the mountain to the front gate.

 The afternoon was perfect for an occasion such as this. Sunny and clear, with a light breeze that shifted through the hair over Bofur’s forehead. They walked across the field, and Bofur could forget the horrendous battle that had taken place upon it months before.

 Bofur’s grin widened at the sight of the gathering of people in the distance, just past the bridge to Dale. Their friends from the Company, of course, along with a few Men from Dale who had become friends over the months.

 Bofur was engulfed in congratulatory arms when he arrived at the site, and a few small headbutts from the dwarves. Bofur laughed, “Hey, I’m not married yet.”

 “Hope you don’t get cold feet,” Nori said. He pointed to the other side of the field. “Bilbo’s on his way now.”

 Bofur turned to see the speck of Bilbo and Bifur emerging from Erebor. He turned back to Nori. “Not a chance.”

 Every settled in their places as Bilbo arrived. Bofur moved to the front of the gathering, and his smile somehow got wider at the sight of Bilbo. The hobbit was dressed in fine dwarven clothing similar to Bofur’s, adjusted for his stature of course. His face and hands had gold paint, to complement Bofur’s silver.

 Bifur took his place next to Bombur, and Bilbo stood in front of Bofur and nervously clasped his hands together. Bofur slightly stepped forward, an assuring expression on his face, and took Bilbo’s hands between his.

 Balin officiated the ceremony. Bofur was determined to remember every detail. The fine braids at the sides of Bilbo’s head above his ears, the gold streaks on Bilbo’s cheeks, nose, and the tips of his pointed ears, the nervous answering pressure from Bilbo’s fingers, the purplish-pink flower petals that were released and wafted down to land in Bilbo’s hair and on his shoulder.

 Then there was the hitch of Bilbo’s breath the second before they leaned in for a gentle headbutt and uniting kiss. Bofur’s hand moved up the hobbit’s arm to caress his cheek, his thumb lightly stroking the skin.

 They opened their eyes, smiles wide as they slightly pulled apart. They pressed their foreheads together again, closing their eyes again, and simply relished in the moment. Bofur’s own heart soared, and he could feel that Bilbo’s did the same. They whispered in unison, “I love you.”

 ********

 “I love you,” they said into each other’s mouths as Bofur lifted Bilbo into his arms and carried him to the bedroom.

 Bilbo giggled as he was dropped onto the bed, and Bofur crawled up to hover over him. He dipped down and started kissing Bilbo’s neck, causing the hobbit to squeak at the tickle of beard against throat.

 Bilbo’s hands raised up to Bofur’s chest and started undoing the tunic fastenings. Bofur lifted himself back up to stare down at his now-husband. There were still a few flower petals in his hair. Bofur lifted one from the locks and gently placed it on the tip of Bilbo’s nose. Bilbo raised his eyebrows, but didn’t question. Then Bofur nudged the petal away with his nose and drew Bilbo into a slow kiss.

 “Mahal, am I fortunate,” Bofur breathed as they pulled away slightly.

 “So am I,” Bilbo responded, finally having undone the fastenings on Bofur’s tunic and starting to push it off his shoulders.

 Bofur pulled Bilbo up to a sitting position to start undoing his shirt.

 They took their time in unclothing, determined to explore with hands and fingers and mouths.

 It wasn’t until they were fully naked and Bofur had Bilbo sitting on his lap and kissing his neck that he became nervous. Bilbo quickly picked up on it and pulled back. “Is everything alright?”

 Bofur flashed a little smile, both to assure the hobbit and himself. Then he heavily swallowed. “I want… tonight, I want…” His tongue anxiously darted out to wet his bottom lip. “I want you to have me.”

 Bilbo’s brows furrowed in slight confusion. “But I do have you.”

 Bofur lightly chuckled. “Not… not quite what I meant. I mean… the opposite of how we do this. I want you to have all of me. I want… to have you in me.”

 Bilbo’s eyes widened a bit at the idea.

 “You- if you don’t want to, it’s fine,” Bofur added quickly.

 Bilbo’s hands moved up from Bofur’s chest to caress the sides of his neck. “Are you certain?” His nose twitched. “I wouldn’t want to hurt you.”

 Bofur slightly shook his head. “You won’t hurt me.” He nuzzled his nose to a braid above the hobbit’s ear. “I trust you.” When he pulled back, Bilbo let out a little breath, and gave a slight nod. Bofur added, “Though only if you’re interested.”

 Bilbo grinned, “I am.” He gently pushed Bofur down flat on his back, and started to kiss down his body.

 Bofur’s moan escaped through his teeth. This wasn’t anything new, but what was to come… he was excited, and if he was honest, a little anxious. He’d wanted Bilbo to have him in this way, but had not been able to allow it to happen. Now… now he knew he could at least try.

 Bilbo’s hand grazed over Bofur’s hardening cock, and the dwarf’s eyes flew open for a second. It wouldn’t take much more for the both of them to be fully ready. Bilbo’s mouth followed his hand, and he simply breathed on Bofur’s cock before kissing and taking the head in his mouth.

 “Mahal, I want you…” Bofur sighed through the wave of pleasure going up his spine.

 “You have me,” Bilbo assured as he lifted his lips from the dwarf’s cock.

 Bofur’s hands went under Bilbo’s arms to pull him up for a full kiss. He ground his hips up against Bilbo’s, grinning at the hardness he felt against his stomach.

 “Greedy dwarf,” Bilbo laughed. “I wasn’t done with that.”

 “Makes you the greedy one, doesn’t it?” Bofur replied with a teasing nip to the hobbit’s bottom lip.

 “Hm… perhaps.” Bilbo broke off into a moan as Bofur’s lips found his neck again.

 Bofur felt that he was ready a few minutes later, and tapped Bilbo’s back to get his attention. Once Bilbo sat up slightly, Bofur stated, “I want you now. I want all of you.”

 Bilbo nodded, and got off of his new husband to reach for the bedside drawer. He opened it and pulled out a jar of oil. He set it on top of the table and opened the lid to dip his fingers in.

 Bofur put his hands behind his head to get a better view. “Let me watch?”

 Bilbo turned so Bofur could see him stroking himself with the oil. Bofur’s gaze stayed on Bilbo’s working hand for a short moment, then moved up to the hobbit’s face. His eyes were closed and his lips slightly parted, allowing small whimpers to escape.  

 Bilbo opened his eyes, and glanced down at his crotch. “Do you… think that’s enough?”

 “Should be. I have done this before, you know.”

 Bilbo glanced to the jar. “But not in a good while.” He dipped his fingers in again, and coated his cock a second time.

 Bofur could only affectionately smile at the hobbit’s thought to his well-being. He grabbed Bilbo’s oil-moistened hand and drew it towards his lower half. “That’s enough,” he said. “I want you now.”

 Bilbo nodded, and took the cue to start with his slick fingers, gently running them over the dwarf’s cock and down his crack. Bofur’s eyelids fluttered for a second at the sensation. “Keep going, please…” he whispered.

 Bilbo obliged, his fingers becoming more bold, and pressing at the entrance. Though he kept watch on Bofur’s face the whole time, ready to stop in case Bofur went into a state of distress. Then he straightened his body to partially lay on the sheets, propping himself up on his elbow. With a kiss to the dwarf’s side, he gently pressed his index finger in.

 Bofur sharply breathed in at the unfamiliar, yet all too familiar, intrusion. Bilbo sensed his tenseness and placed a tender kiss on his stomach. “I’m alright,” Bofur assured. This was a welcome intrusion. “Keep going…” His hands gripped the pillow under his head as Bilbo slowly slid his finger all the way in, then thrust it in and out just as slowly.

 Bofur’s hips bucked when Bilbo added a second finger at his request. “One more,” he said once he was ready for the third. Bilbo palmed Bofur’s cock as he obeyed.

 It felt so good… Bofur had forgotten how much so. One hand slid down his chest to join Bilbo’s at his cock. Together, they stroked him as Bilbo kept thrusting his fingers in a slow rhythm. “Yes…” Bofur swallowed heavily. After another moment, he stated, “I’m ready for you.”

 Bilbo went down for a kiss, then sat back to adjust his body to the right position. Bofur pushed himself up enough to let his fingers trail down the hobbit’s chest until the grazed over his hardness, relishing the little close-mouthed squeak the touch drew out.

 Then Bofur laid back fully against the pillow and headboard, taking a couple deep breaths in anticipation. Bofur put his legs so his knees were bent and feet were flat on the sheets. He felt the heat from Bilbo’s crotch, and bit his lip at the first pressure against his entrance.

 At Bilbo’s hesitation, Bofur laid his hand over Bilbo’s on his waist. “I trust you.” Bilbo nodded, and pushed in slowly. Bofur let out a long breath, his hand tightening over the hobbit’s.

 It took them a moment to find a slow but still somehow passionate rhythm. Bilbo also added his hand to stroking Bofur’s cock. Once he realized the emotional obstacle was being overcome, Bofur’s stomach seemed to flutter. It didn’t hurt, not physically or mentally or in any other way. All he felt was pleasure and love.

 Bofur opened his eyes to find Bilbo hovering over him, smiling through the motion of their bodies. He barely heard Bilbo’s soft sigh of “…how you were meant to be loved…”

 “Meant to be loved…” Bofur echoed. He pushed himself up enough to wrap his arms around Bilbo and pull him into a deep kiss. Bofur continued holding onto him as they rode out the waves of pleasure and love together.

 Bilbo suddenly froze and looked to the dwarf’s face. He started to pull out. “I’m about to-“

 Bofur’s hands immediately went down to the hobbit’s butt cheeks to stop him from moving any further. “Don’t do that. Stay, please?”

 “But I’m about to… you want me to, in you?”

 Bofur nodded. “When I said I wanted all of you, I meant it.”

 Bilbo glanced down between their bodies in his hesitation. Bofur brought one hand to the hobbit’s face to tilt his gaze back up. “I know what you’re thinking, and I appreciate your thoughtfulness.” A wave of emotion suddenly washed over Bofur, making his voice crack. “You… you wouldn’t be claiming me, like… like they did. I give myself to you freely. You won’t hurt me. I trust you… I love you, aye?”

 Bilbo bit his lip for a second before nodding. “Right… alright, then.” He resumed his previous rhythm, and his hand around Bofur’s cock pumped just a little harder.

 Bofur could feel that Bilbo was holding it in, and he knew why. Only when his own cock spurted seed up his stomach and on Bilbo’s hand, did he feel the cock within him throb and release.

 “Oh, Bilbo… yes…” was all Bofur could find to say at the sensation and emotion. Bilbo’s words were similar. Bofur pulled Bilbo in closer as they both finished, pressing their foreheads together.

 When they were spent, Bilbo’s head dropped down to Bofur’s chest, and they both their breaths were heavy and laced with remaining moans. They stayed like that for a moment longer before Bilbo pulled out and reached over for a cloth on the bedside dresser. He quickly cleaned the mess between them, and went down to capture Bofur’s lips with his own in a lazy kiss.

 “Thank you, for indulging me,” Bofur whispered.

 Bilbo smiled, seeing that there was no distress in the dwarf’s face. “I trust you,” he replied, nuzzling his nose to Bofur’s silver-streaked cheek. “I love you.”

 Despite his physical exhaustion, Bofur’s heart soared in his chest. He could have this, in this way, again, with someone who loved him just as much as he loved him. He wrapped his arms around Bilbo’s back and pulled him down on top of him. Bilbo pulled the blankets over their lower halves and settled his head on the dwarf’s chest. Bofur pressed a kiss in the blonde curls, chuckling when a flower petal came away with his lips.

 Before they fell into sleep, Bofur sent a silent prayer of thanks to Mahal. A prayer thanking him for Bilbo, and for all the things he had at one time thought he could never have again, that he now had. He felt Bilbo’s mouth moving on his chest, and let out a content smile, knowing Bilbo was sending a silent prayer as well.


	31. Chapter 16

 Bilbo and Bofur left Erebor not long after their wedding, with a caravan headed to Ered Luin. Bifur, Bombur, Nori, and Kili accompanied them, along with some of the dwarves from the Iron Hills. It was a royal convoy, its purpose to bring the official news of the region to Ered Luin, along with some of the gold to share the wealth, now that it had all finally been catalogued and accounted for.

As nice as Erebor had become over the months, the married hobbit and dwarf missed their home in the Shire, and the one Bofur had been taken from in Ered Luin.

 Thankfully, the trip back across the Misty Mountains and beyond was not nearly as eventful as the trip to Erebor for the quest had been. In fact, it was as uneventful as possible, which suited everyone just fine.

 They did divert from the road near the Hidden Pass to Rivendell, and all six members of the Company smiled at the stone Trolls. It didn’t take long to find the cave, and dig up a small chest. Nori told Bilbo to think of it as a belated wedding present when he gave it to the hobbit.

 When they had reached the border of the Shire, the wagon with the members of the Company separated from the others, wanting to go to Hobbiton for a couple of days for some good food and rest before continuing on to their homes in Ered Luin.

 “Green grass and rolling hills,” Bofur breathed, basking in the sight from the wagon’s seat behind the ponies pulling it. Bilbo, sitting beside him, smiled and laid his head on the dwarf’s shoulder. “Home at last.”

 “Don’t get too comfortable, remember,” Kili said, peeking his head out from the canvas covering behind them. “Or you might never come with us to Ered Luin.”

 “Don’t worry,” Bilbo assured. “I wouldn’t miss that. After all, I do have a large family to meet.”

 “That, indeed,” Bofur chuckled. He handed the reigns to Bilbo and pulled out his flute to play a merry little tune. He couldn’t help this little celebration, he was home again, one of them, anyway. The plan for him and Bilbo was to visit with Bombur’s family as he and Bifur got resettled back in Ered Luin, then return to the Shire.

 A much as he missed Ered Luin, Bofur didn’t think he could permanently live there again. He would have to wait until going back again to know his feelings for certain, but he couldn’t imagine being without his hobbit, and not seeing the beauty of the Shire for most of his remaining life. The Shire, and everything it symbolized for him, was part of him now. He couldn’t leave it like that. It was a place of peace, safety, and plenty… Not that Bofur could say he could want for plenty, with the share of Erebor’s gold he had left with.

 They reached Hobbiton, and steered the wagon up the pathways to BagEnd. Bifur, Bombur, and Kili had gotten out of the wagon to walk beside it, wanting to stretch their legs and take in the sights.

 “Hold on…” Bilbo stopped the wagon at the line of hobbits walking away from his house. It was clear they weren’t going to get through with the wagon, and left it there, intending to come back for it later once the path had cleared.

 “Isn’t that you mother’s glory box?” Bofur asked as a hobbit walked past them, her eyes widening at the group but not remarking on them. Bofur caught the sheepish expression from Kili at the object’s identification.

 “What’s going on here?” Bilbo muttered. His confusion was shared by the dwarves as they made their way up to the house and more hobbits passed them with his and Bofur’s belongings.

 “Hello, Mister Bilbo, Mister Bofur!” greeted Mister Worrywort, pushing a wheelbarrow of their things along. He stopped, and fully realized the situation. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

 “What do you mean?” Bilbo asked.

 “On account of you both being presumed dead and all.”

 “We are not dead,” Bilbo stated simply.

 “Presumed or otherwise,” Bofur added.

 With that, the six of them hurried up the hill, despite the protest from the other hobbit. This certainly wasn’t the homecoming Bofur had been expecting, with everyone thinking they had died on their adventure and selling off their things. For a second, he rethought his idea of the Shire being peace and safety, but quickly shook his head. This was simply a mistake, one that could be easily enough fixed. After all, it had been a year and half since they had dashed off with barely a word to anyone else.

 Still, for the hobbits to take their things from their home without their consent in this merry fashion, as Bofur had been stolen away from his… it hurt. Bofur gave a half-smile to Bifur when his cousin noticed the change in his mood and laid a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll be alright, just… unexpected, this.”

 Bilbo had gone straight up to the auctioneer, and was trying to settle things.

 “Something official, with your names on it would suffice.”

 Bofur watched Bilbo take out the contract that Balin had given back to them before they left, and thought this was frankly ridiculous, and could tell his fellow dwarves agreed. Everyone here knew who Bilbo was by sight, and they certainly wouldn’t have forgotten the dwarf who lived with him.

 With their signatures on the contract being satisfactory, Bilbo and Bofur lead the other four into their house.

 Bilbo sighed at the state of his home. “I… I hope you all wouldn’t mind staying an extra couple of days, to help me get everything back and in order?”

 “Anything for you and Bofur,” Bifur answered.

 “I’m sure we’ll get it all back in no time,” Nori assured. “One way or another.”

 “Yes, well, I’d rather hope we can do it the one way, and not the another,” Bilbo half-smiled.

 They all turned to Bofur, who hadn’t moved since stopping a few steps inside the door. Bofur realized this and shook his head to clear it of those earlier negative thoughts. “Sorry, lads, just… thinking.” The Quest had been good for him, to help him sort through his lingering emotions and fears over what had happened to him, but it hadn’t completely healed him. Nothing ever could, he knew. It was something he’d come to accept. But, if he couldn’t trust hobbits with his possessions… He shook his head again. This was simply a special circumstance. It didn’t indicate anything worse for him down the line.

 Bilbo took his husband’s hand. “You alright?”

 “Yes, lost in thought, like I said.”

 “Don’t worry, we’ll get this to feel like our home again.”

 Bofur smiled, a genuine one. “I know we will.”

 ********

 A few days later, with BagEnd restored to its glory, the six members of the Company set off again, to Ered Luin.

 Bofur smoked his pipe, legs hanging out the back of the wagon. Bifur sat next to him, sampling some of the hobbit pipeweed as well. They watched the appearing stars in the late evening.

 “Coming back with us, you’re ready?” Bifur softly inquired.

 Bofur gave his cousin a sideways glance.

 “Before, when we came for the quest, you said you weren’t ready to return.”

 “That was eighteen months ago,” Bofur pointed out. “And so much has happened since I said that.” 

 Bifur looked behind him into the wagon at the sleeping Bilbo and Bombur. Kili and Nori were up front steering the ponies. “Yes… much has.”

“For the better, mostly,” Bofur added.

 Bifur made a humming noise as he turned back to Bofur. “Certainly for the better, with you.”

 “Indeed. Both of us, all of us.”

 Bifur nodded, and gently headbutted the younger dwarf, turning his head to compensate for the nonexistent axe out of habit. Then he put his arm around Bofur’s back and went back to looking out across the landscape.

 As he watched the trees go past, Bofur smiled and laid his head on his cousin’s shoulder.  It had taken being saved by a compassionate hobbit, time in the Shire, his cousin and brother miraculously finding him by chance, a quest to slay a dragon and reclaim a kingdom, and a marriage. It had taken all that, but Bofur was finally going home, to Ered Luin.

 With his cousin, brother, and husband with him, Bofur knew he was no longer lost, and never would be again.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those following this story as it was updated, I apologize for taking so long to finish this. For everyone- thanks for reading!


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